


The Object of his Afflictions

by Twiddlesticks



Category: Shovel Knight
Genre: Blood, F/M, an absolute buttload of UST, both serious and cartoon violence, brief mentions of drug use - ether specifically, im bad with tags but ill try to add anything if it pops up later, injuries, mentions of abusive parents, or is it URT, please just... enjoy, slow burn... i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-05-07 13:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 176,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twiddlesticks/pseuds/Twiddlesticks
Summary: Sequel to Primum Opus.-After blowing up the Academy of Alchemy with his new partner Mona, Plague Knight sets out for the greener pastures of The Valley to make a name for himself. However, the going isn’t easy when he’s up against angry knights, snobbish adventurers, idiotic minions and the fearsome encroaching threat of a woman known only as The Enchantress. To make matters worse, he finds himself falling victim to a mysterious disease that he has no hopes of curing… despite it all, Plague Knight is resolute in his quest to become the greatest alchemist on earth… and perhaps a little more, besides.-Prequel to the main game, detailing the rise of the Explodatorium, PK’s induction into the Order and subsequent plot to brew the ultimate potion. Written before KoC, so a lot of this is gonna get super duper disproved upon release, but... oh well.





	1. Strike the Earth!

“Oh… drat.”

It was noon, and the sun was high in the sky. The heat was mitigated by a soft breeze that rustled the grass, and the occasional shady copse of trees closer than the forest, but only slightly. The sky was a gorgeous blue, filled with fluffy clouds and distant birds, and it had been two weeks since they’d seen civilization. 

Plague Knight was out of Sweet Vitriol.

He held the bottle tightly in his hands, staring down the neck as if begging it to replenish itself by magic, but only the faintest whiff of its precious contents remained.  
This trip was going to get a whole lot harder, a whole lot faster. Without his painkiller, he was going to have a much more difficult go of things. But he couldn’t tell his companion; she’d probably only be annoyed. He knew she didn’t quite approve of his use of the stuff.

Since blowing up the prestigious Academy of Alchemy, the two partners embarked on a journey to the east, looking forward to a new, exciting future in pursuit of true alchemy. They had been traveling on foot for about a month now, and the going was not easy.  
Their first stop for supplies was Plague Knight’s hideout, which he’d cleaned out as thoroughly as he could manage. They’d used up as much of the alchemical components he’d stashed as possible, creating useful brews and bombs for the road ahead. The tiny fortress was immolated shortly after.

“Won’t be needing this place anymore! Let’s give it a proper funeral, heehee!”

“You just wanted to blow something up, didn’t you?”

The next stop was a tiny raid at a nearby hamlet. The place was so small that it consisted mainly of one man and his livestock, but there was milk and cabbages to be filched, and they were so hungry…

Now they were wandering in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, with only the vague direction of east to guide them, and their shared vision to keep their spirits up.  
Plague Knight’s spirits, however, had just taken a dive. Both literally, and figuratively. He stowed his bottle morosely and gazed ahead. His companion was there, a few steps onwards, her dirty cloak trailing gracefully behind her. Her hood was up, hiding her face from the hot sun, but as he looked, she happened to turn and glance at him, revealing her pale green face. She gave him one of her not-smiles; a peculiar expression unique to her. It was rare to see her show any kind of positive emotion, apart from smirks or devious grins, but when she wanted to convey a sense of friendliness, she had a certain look… her mouth remained flat, but her eyes lit with an amiable gleam.

Her name was Desdemona Mopes, and she was a fellow alchemist. He’d met her at the ill-fated Academy several months ago, during his time posing as a student there to steal ingredients. He hadn’t planned on making any acquaintances, being far more interested in plundering the useless school for its excellent stock of substances. But Desdemona -or Mona, as she much preferred him to call her- caught his eye with a rather dangerous display of innovation. 

Plague Knight always worked alone, in equal parts because he hated people, and because people hated him. But Mona seemed to be something of a kindred spirit.  
From the outside, the two appeared as different as day and night: Plague Knight was short, twitchy, and far more pleasing to look at with his mask on. He had a high-pitched, scratchy voice, shabby clothing and a generally disorderly nature. Mona, on the other hand, was tall, beautiful and well-dressed, with a deep, husky voice and a languid, graceful way of doing… well, just about everything. She seemed almost ethereal, like some kind of fairy princess… until you actually spoke to her, at which point she came off as a brick wall of disinterest.  
But beneath all that, the two couldn’t be more similar. They were both rapacious learners, always hungry for knowledge and ingenuity. They were also both rather misanthropic, and their senses of humour seemed to mesh quite nicely. In general, Plague Knight was surprised to find Mona not only a clever and amusing alchemist, but a genuinely pleasant companion. A first, in both cases, for him. 

So the two became partners, cast off their old lives and now they were headed towards something wonderful. And it would be wonderful… if they could get there.

‘You’ll make it,’ thought Plague Knight to himself. It was more of a command than a reassurance. 

He noticed, then, that Mona’s footsteps had stopped. He glanced towards her again to see her cocking her head, as if to listen. He stopped to do the same, and picked up on what she’d noticed.

“There’s a stream nearby,” she murmured.

“Heh, sounds like it.”

“…I’m going to go take a bath.” Mona turned to look down at him, pulling her hood back to reveal her mop of short, blue-purple hair, “You should have one, too.”

“Ah…?”

“Not at the same time,” she chided, smirking, “Take a rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Plague Knight shrugged, then waved as she headed off towards the forest a little ways from their path, towards the sound of running water.  
He ambled slowly towards a nearby tree and sat under it, leaning against the trunk. He tucked his hands into his robes, running his fingers over the various pouches and bottles concealed within. 

“Heh… Maybe there’ll be a town nearby… A little hamlet… Somewhere they keep their spirits… Towns always have spirits. People love to drink… and then I can make some more… heh… Just have to wait a while…”

Unfortunately, waiting a while would be difficult. He was already beginning to feel the effects. It wasn’t withdrawal, exactly; Sweet Vitriol wasn’t quite what one would call addictive. But without it, his limitations were free to get the best of him. He didn’t much like being dependant on a substance, but someone like himself had to make do…  
He took a deep breath and focused on the sound of running water, trying to get a good sense of where it was coming from so he’d have a quick trip once Mona came back. He frowned, slightly, under his mask as he thought about her; she really did love teasing him about baths. He’d once made a comment about personal hygiene, not-quite asking after her bathing schedule, and now she refused to let him live it down.  
He liked Mona. A lot. But he did wish she’d choose a different running joke. This one never failed to make him embarrassed, for whatever reason, and it was an annoying feeling. Plague Knight hated to be annoyed; he was much more partial to being annoying.

He smirked to himself at the idea of all the mischief he could get up to in The Valley. Sure, he’d finally be able to properly look into the secrets of alchemy if everything went as planned, and that would always be his top priority. But there would always be some idiot to challenge him. People invariably saw his short stature and choice of dress and took it as an invitation to start slinging insults. It had been the same before he’d started wearing his signature mask, though for slightly different reasons.  
Plague Knight took it all in stride; a couple of well-worded counter-insults usually instigated a little skirmish, and then he was free to bomb the idiots back to wherever they’d come from.  
It wasn’t that he enjoyed being insulted, exactly, but revenging himself on others was a wonderfully cathartic feeling. After a lifetime of abuse, he practically welcomed the chance to throw a little of it back in the universe’s face, through whatever vessel it chose to send at him.  
The Valley would be no different. He’d been through several lands since leaving home, and things never changed.  
…Well, except in Humeheath, where he’d met Mona. She would pick on him too, at times, but with her, it was different. He got a sense that she didn’t want to hurt him with her words, exactly… more that she liked seeing him squirm. That was another place where the two could see eye-to-eye. Even if Mona was more subtle about it, he was sure she had the same sort of affection for needling people as he did. 

Plague Knight passed the time thinking of future experiments he would like to conduct, and trying to imagine the abandoned fort he would soon hopefully possess. He’d overheard talk of the place from a group of travelling masons, who’d once been stationed there. Apparently, it had been attacked by a wayward necromancer, and become overrun with the undead. The fort was promptly caved in and abandoned, leaving it a rather handsome piece of available real-estate to those who didn’t mind ambulatory bones. Plague Knight rubbed his hands gleefully together at the prospect of renovating it into a glorious laboratory.  
As usual, his excitement spread throughout his entire body, causing him to jump to his feet. He simply couldn’t sit still when he was plotting, which was nearly all of the time. In general, Plague Knight hated to be stationary. He always thought better on his feet, and felt better when the energy generated from his brain could be expelled through his limbs.  
Unfortunately, his mind was always a step ahead of his body. He winced as he felt a tremor pass through him as he paced feverishly back and forth under his tree. He was a sickly creature beneath his robes and mask. His greenish skin revealed his poor constitution and frail health. It was so utterly frustrating to be a weakling when his mind was alight like an electric current. The two were disconnected, out of synch… And the usual cocktail of drugs and vitamins he imbibed was not currently available to set himself in order.

He hissed a sigh of annoyance and reluctantly went to sit back under his tree. His skin was feeling tender and he supposed he would have to save his strength for the journey ahead. He was just wondering if projection could work on liquids, when the sound of footfalls met his ears.  
He glanced up to see Mona approaching from the woods. She was wrapped tightly in her cloak, with her wet clothes slung over her shoulder. Her hair was plastered around her face, but despite her bedraggled appearance, she seemed a little brighter than she had been in the past few days. 

“Your turn,” she said, as she approached his tree.

Once she was close enough, she carefully hung her dripping clothing over one of the low-hanging boughs, careful to stay covered by her cloak. Plague Knight stood up.

“Why are you so concerned that I take a bath, heehee?” he asked, eager to pay her back for her little joke, “I thought being interested in one’s bathing schedule was weeeeird…”

Mona raised an eyebrow.

“And you were the one who said good hygiene was essential to health. I’m looking out for you.”

Damn! Steely as ever. 

“Very well..! I’ll be back, clean as a whistle. …Or as clean as a muddy brook will leave me, heh.”

“It’s nice. Swift-running, though. Sit in front of a rock, or something.”

Plague Knight unloaded his supplies, then ambled towards the sound of water, feeling a little apprehensive. Apart from wanting to tease Mona, his protests came from the fact that he actually wasn’t too keen on bathing. Plague Knight liked, firstly, to bathe in private. And secondly, it was almost always a chemical bath of cleansing substances that he scrubbed over his miserable skin to remove any sort of contaminants from his recent experiments. He wasn’t used to water, which was far more gentle. If his skin wasn’t burning by the end of a bath, he didn’t quite feel clean… 

But there was the stream, up ahead, winding through a deep trench in a clearing in the woods. This was a little comforting, as it gave him a certain measure of privacy. What with the crunchy undergrowth, he’d be able to hear someone coming immediately and be able to scramble back into his clothes before they reached him. Despite this, even as he removed his cloak and robes, he left his mask firmly in place. It was old and shabby and fraying at the edges, but until he could find a suitable replacement, he had to keep it on.

With a reluctant warble, Plague Knight lowered himself over the high bank and descended gingerly into the stream. It wasn’t as swift-running as Mona claimed, and he was sure now that she’d been making a joke at him. He waded deeper and deeper in, until the water was up to his chest. The cool liquid was actually rather soothing on his sore skin, and he felt that at least he could relax a little, for the time being.  
He splayed his fingers under the surface, letting the current press against them. His eyes drifted from his talon-like nails to his sharp wrists, then to his bony arms. He scowled at the ugly, patchy down growing around his elbows and resisted the urge to pick it out. 

“Gross,” he mumbled, quietly. Then he waded back to the edge of the stream and dragged his clothing into the water. 

Once he was fairly sure that his body and his clothing were suitably clean, he crawled out of the stream and up the bank where he wrapped himself in his cloak, which he’d left dry. Then he began his trek back to the tree where Mona waited. He found himself shivering as he went, the light breeze feeling like a high wind to his sensitive skin. He tugged his cloak tighter around himself and scowled.

“Grr. Keep it together, you waste of space,” he chided himself as he stumbled along.

When he was finally back, he could see that Mona’s clothing was nearly dry. She was sitting under the tree, poring over her notebook. She glanced up as he approached.

“Feel better?”

“Not particularly. A bath is good for the health, but it’s not a cure-all.”

“What ails you, then?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, quickly. Mona helped him hang his clothes next to hers and then patted the ground next to her. 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” she said, as he waddled to her side, “You were saying that you wanted to drum up a sort of following to help with your experiments, right?”

“Heh, every great alchemist needs minions!” Plague Knight piped up, plopping down and peering at Mona’s book. 

“Well, I’ve been thinking of business pitches, so to speak,” she said, pointing out a couple of little illustrations she’d made. She wasn’t a bad artist; Plague Knight could recognize himself easily, “We’re going to want to wow people without worrying them. We need something impressive, but not… too explosive, at first. I was thinking a demonstration of Aqua Regia, to show how easy it is to dissolve gold. Then, when the crowd is upset that one of their precious coins has been wasted, we hit them with a projection.”

“Heehee, not bad!” replied Plague Knight, “But shouldn’t we pull out the big guns? Transmutation is always spectacular…” 

“Well, yes,” Mona closed her book, “But we don’t really have the supplies for a transmutation potion, and we don’t know much about The Valley. Getting our hands on ingredients might take forever. Even if Projection is basic stuff, we have to at least make an impression…”

Plague Knight tilted his head, “Since when are you such a business woman?”

“It’s a Noble thing,” she sighed, “You learn a lot of stuff when you’re being brought up to be a Lady. Nothing really useful, though.”

“Heh! Business is useful.”

“Yes, but… I mean, I don’t know how to darn a dress. I don’t know how to cook a meal. Everything like that got handed to me on a silver platter, and I’m tired of it,” Mona crossed her arms, “I want to be independent! I don’t have the time or money to hire servants, I’ve got science to do!”

Plague Knight tittered, “I can cook.”

“Melting food into its base elements is not cooking,” Mona replied, flatly. 

Plague Knight had never taken off his mask in her presence, preferring to puree his share of the food into a goo he could sip out of a bottle or a bomb casing. He usually subsisted on a vitamin-rich slurry of his own invention. But whenever he had the luxury of being truly alone, and having solid food at the same time, he did like to actually cook and eat. That had been one of the benefits of transmutating into someone without a mask; the ability to simply gobble down whatever he had on hand.

“Besides,” continued Mona, “I told you. I want to be independent. Being a talented alchemist is useless if I can’t even feed myself. It’s… childish.”

She gave a dour sigh and cupped her cheeks.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you.”

“Starving.”

“Then lets get back on the road! There’s got to be food somewhere ahead, heehee!”

“How optimistic,” Mona grumbled. She stood up, clutching her cloak tightly around her, “I’m going to get dressed.”

She disappeared around the other side of the tree, taking her slightly damp clothing with her. Plague Knight prudently grabbed his own clothing and took them in the opposite direction, into the harsh sunlight outside their tiny ring of shade. The heat would dry his clothing far quicker, anyway. He took his sopping robes, flung them around his shoulders, and cinched his belt around his waist to keep his cloak from opening. Then he began to run in circles, endeavouring to speed up the drying process.  
As usual, his lungs began to hurt a few moments later, but he stubbornly kept moving, skipping through the grass with as much vigour as he could muster. Until a particularly sharp jab of pain caused him to stumble and fall flat on his face, that was.

“What are you doing?”

Mona was walking towards him, fully dressed again. She knelt down next to him and cocked her head.

“What’s… Plague Knight..?”

Plague Knight pushed himself up and tried not to wheeze as he breathed.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine…”

He coughed a little and placed a hand over his chest. Urgh.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, without prompting. He glanced up to see Mona looking very unimpressed.

“You’re about as fine as a fish on land. Are you sick? You’re shivering…”

He was still cold from his bath, even though the sun was hot overhead.

“It’s nothing,” he insisted, getting to his feet, “I was just trying to dry off my clothes! Heh, I’m fine, haha!! Just fine!!”

Unfortunately, he’d stood up too fast. Spots swam in front of his vision and he wobbled where he stood. Mona reached out and steadied him, then removed her cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, coldly, “We need to find food immediately. You’re about to collapse. I’ll carry you.”

“NO!” Plague Knight stumbled back, indignantly, “Mona, I am perfectly fine. HA HA. I’m just…”

He let out a harsh sigh and threw out his hands, “I’m out of Sweet Vitriol. …Among other things. And without its pain-numbing effects, it’s… a little harder for me to stay on my feet! But that doesn’t mean I’m–“

“Wait, when did you get injured?”

“I’m not injured–” Plague Knight ran a hand down his mask, “I’m just– ”

He hesitated, teetering on the precipice of a dangerous admission. He didn’t want to tell her; he didn’t want her to know. But if they were to be traveling together, revealing the truth now would most likely save him a lot of trouble down the road. No matter how miserable it would be. 

“…weak.”

Mona blinked.

“…Not well. Never have been. I’ve always been a sick, feeble…” he turned away, “Heh. The point is, I’m just a little slower without my drugs. This isn’t out of the ordinary, so you don’t have to worry. Please.”

When he glanced back, Mona was staring at him with her glittering green eyes, her expression inscrutable. Then she stood up and held out her hand.

“Well, fine. If it’s normal. But I want you to hold onto me. I’m not rushing back to pick you up if you collapse.”

Plague Knight decided not to argue. As embarrassing as this was, there was a funny tone in her voice that warned him not to disobey. He remembered something similar from the time he’d been injured on a personal mission at the Academy and she’d nursed him back to health. The bite in her voice was the same. 

After getting dressed in the privacy of the forest and collecting all his supplies together, Plague Knight took Mona’s hand and the two continued down the road. The silence between them felt thick and heavy. Plague Knight didn’t like it, but he was far too upset to try and smooth things out. He hated showing any form of weakness, and straight out telling Mona about his disability had been mortifying. What must she think of him now..? Glancing up at her showed him that she was looking determinedly ahead, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. A hollow feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. 

He tried to distract himself as they walked. He thought back to his musings on the fort. This managed to sustain him as they went, and he was just about to tentatively voice his thoughts to Mona, to test the waters, when there was a faint cry from ahead. Mona came to a halt, and so did Plague Knight, next to her. A few feet before them was a high ledge. More cries came from beyond it, growing louder and louder, as well as footsteps. Suddenly, a figure appeared from the other side of the ledge, leaping to the dirt below with a loud clanking of armour. 

As the stranger straightened up, Plague Knight exhaled glumly through his nostrils. It was a knight. Plague Knight loathed knights. Not just because they were constantly trying to kill him, but their entire way of being vexed him to no end. They were held up by society as the perfect beings; strong, mysterious, brave and honourable. The truth, however, in his experience, was that most of them were greedy mouth-breathers with a chip on their shoulder and an overinflated ego. And this knight’s entire appearance suggested that he was a knight-adventurer, which was the absolute worst kind of knight. They were even more arrogant and avaricious than regular knights, and even more beloved by the general population.  
The knight before them was short, perhaps shorter than Plague Knight himself, but where they lacked in height they made up for magnificently with brawn. Even without the flashy, blindingly blue armour, it was obvious that they were well-built. Their helmet bore a pair of pointy white bull horns, and they were carrying a long, wickedly sharp shovel in a way that suggested it was more a weapon than a simple digging implement. 

The knight turned the t-shaped slit of their helmet towards Mona and Plague Knight, then straightened up and waved.

“Well met, travellers!” he shouted in a buoyant, friendly voice, making his way clankingly towards them. He stopped, suddenly, looking between them, his face lingering on Mona’s for a moment longer, “Ah..! Are you friend, or foe?”

“Hee! Why don’t you come over here and find out?” replied Plague Knight, gleefully. 

He was excited to tear open a tin can. Mona, on the other hand, had suddenly changed demeanour completely.

“Hail, brave sir knight!” she called back in a decidedly un-Mona-ish voice, “Have you been travelling far?”

“Just a few hours time from The Village!” replied the knight, amiably, “May I ask the same of you?”

“A month’s travel, on foot,” Mona explained, still in that weird, melodramatic voice, “May I ask which village you speak of? We are currently seeking a place called The Valley.”

“Ah! Then you are on the right track! I have just come from there!” cried the knight, “But the way ahead is traitorous! Behind me lie the Plains of Passage. It is no place for unarmed wanderers..!”

Plague Knight yanked hard on Mona’s skirt.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, “And what’s with that voice?!”

Mona waved to the knight, “A moment, please! I must converse with my companion!”

She turned away and leaned over to whisper to Plague Knight.

“I’m getting us to civilization. If I play my cards right, I can get that guy to escort us to The Valley.”

“What?!” Plague Knight balked at the idea, “Mona, we don’t need him! He’s just another brainless knight, heehee! We can make it on our own! I’m– I can make it! Really, I’m feeling much better than–“

“I’m exhausted,” Mona interrupted, curtly, “I’m hungry, I’m in a terrible mood, and I’m worr… Rrh. …Anyway. I know you can make it. I trust you. But it’ll be way easier if we play up the poor unfortunates schtick and get this guy to do all the heavy lifting for us. You heard what he said; the Plains of Pain, or whatever, are dangerous. Why should we waste any more energy when we could have a willing bodyguard at our disposal?”

Plague Knight was silent for a few moments, mulling it over. The way she spun it made it seem far more palatable to him. He wasn’t a weakling who had to accept pity from some arrogant knight… they were fooling an idiot into doing their dirty work! Yes!

“Heehee! Alright then! Work your magic!”

Mona straightened up and turned back to the knight.

“My apologies, sir knight. We have been travelling for many days with little food… We are very lost, and very tired, and we wish very much to reach The Valley before nightfall…” Mona added an artistic little swoon, and Plague Knight nodded enthusiastically, “If our story moves you, may we humbly beg a measure of your time and skill to lead us safely to The Village..?”

The knight stood straight, puffing out his armoured chest, “My lady! You need not speak so meekly! By the Code of Shovelry, it is my honour-bound duty to help those in need! I am Shovel Knight! At your service!”

Mona and Plague Knight glanced at each other. From the way he spoke his name, it seemed that he too was a capital K knight. Plague Knight was unimpressed. He’d come across other so-called capital K knights, and none of them had measured up to his own skill. But he supposed he couldn’t challenge this man to a duel; they needed him to traverse the way ahead.

“Thank you, Shovel Knight,” crooned Mona, “We’re ever so lucky to have met such a courageous hero! Isn’t that right P–– …B-Bertram?”

Plague Knight flinched, slightly, before realizing Mona’s angle. She didn’t want any sort of competition or rivalry to rise between two Knights, and besides, Plague Knight’s title made him sound rather, well… evil. A self-styled hero like this man would most likely jump at the chance to vanquish a little monster like him.

“Heh, yes! Terribly lucky! Absolutely blessed! We’re enraptured to meet you, sir Knight, heehee!”

Plague Knight just caught Mona’s ‘too much…’ expression before the Knight beckoned to them. He approached the ledge he’d leapt from earlier and planted his shovel in the ground, then held out his hand.

“Up you go!”

Mona and Plague Knight looked at each other, before Mona stepped forwards and took the Knight’s hand. He helped her step onto the handle of the shovel, then clamber over the top of the ledge. He turned to Plague Knight, but the little alchemist refused to accept his help.

“Heh! I can do it myself,” he said, quickly, avoiding the Knight’s hand and scrambling awkwardly up the shovel, trying to hoist himself over the lip of the ledge. Mona knelt down from above and gently pulled him up beside her. 

In the next moment, the Knight had leapt onto his shovel, then to the ledge, and swung his weapon up after him in a graceful arc. 

“Onwards!” he cried, jovially, “Keep a wary eye, and I shall clear the path ahead!”

 

The so-called Shovel Knight had been right. The Plains of Passage were traitorous. Apart from the deep holes that dotted the landscape, enormous Beetos infested the place, whilst green Drakes swooped down on them from above. Blobs of sentient slime oozed through the grass, and Plague Knight noticed Mona sighing wistfully as she caught sight of them. By far the most pressing threat was the undead, however. Crawling out from the walls and ground came skeletons, still dressed in armour, swinging cutlases as they had when they were alive.  
But the Shovel Knight showed no fear. He slashed valiantly through every obstacle in their path, be it an enemy or a solid clod of earth. Despite his feelings on Knights, Plague Knight couldn’t help but feel rather envious. He glanced over at Mona, suddenly very curious about her thoughts on the matter. Mona, however, was as stony-faced as usual, showing no emotion as she made her way over the tricky terrain.

“Halt!”

A few hours on, the Knight held up a hand, and pointed ahead. Plague Knight stopped to catch his breath, wheezing, and forced himself to look up. Before them was a wide pit. On the other side, sleeping in the hollow of a mound of earth, was an enormous yellow dragon.

“Dozedrake,” murmured the Knight, cautiously, “We mustn’t disturb it. The way froward is behind it, and its breath may be the key to overcoming the chasm… But we must take care to be silent! Understand?”

“How do we get across?” asked Mona, peering at the large gap in the earth with slight trepidation. 

“The bubbles it expels are strong enough to support a human’s weight!” replied the Knight, “I can bounce across, like so!”

The Knight hefted his shovel, then made a run for the chasm. 

“Twenty gold says he drops,” said Plague Knight. 

Mona pursed her lips, “You’re on.”

But to Plague Knight’s surprise, the Knight changed his position in midair, swinging his shovel downwards, sharply, and gripping it with every limb. When the blade connected with a bubble, it burst, sending the tool-wielding Knight rocketing upwards. He hit another bubble, which launched him onwards again, and so on and so forth, until he’d reached the other side. Once the Dozedrake had had more time to replenish its stream of bubbles, the Knight hopped back to the pair of alchemists.

“You owe me twenty gold,” murmured Mona. 

“Heehee! Darn.”

“Do you think you can manage?” asked the Knight, “If not, I will find another solution..!”

“Hee!” Plague Knight rummaged in his robes, “I’ll just Burst across!”

Mona turned to him, quickly, “No, you won’t. The–– Er, the Brave Sir Knight told us to keep quiet. If we wake up that Dozedrake, things could go seriously wrong.”

She leaned in, and hissed, “And we don’t have enough of an arsenal to combat it. I’m not redoing the Griffoth incident.”

Plague Knight winced, guiltily, “Fine…”

The Shovel Knight saluted them, before hopping back to the other side as Plague Knight turned to the gap, peering into its ominous black depths. He did not like leaps of faith, for both personal and common-sensical reasons. But he couldn’t falter now; the Shovel Knight had leapt across like it was a game of hopscotch, and he’d been slashing down enemies for the last three hours without breaking a sweat. Plague Knight had been thoroughly shown up, and he hated to let Mona think him weak. Especially after his earlier admission.

So he steeled himself, took a running leap, and made for a bubble. Luckily for him, he managed to hit the first one and make a good leap towards the second. Unluckily, with each bounce, his foothold burst with a wave of scalding chemical vapour. Even if he weren’t in terrible physical condition, the blasts would have still been agony on his poor little legs. He did his best to maneuver himself as he would while bomb-bursting; the method he’d developed kept him relatively safe from shrapnel and heat damage. Even so, the journey was most uncomfortable. 

“Haha–– Hahaha–– HEE HEEE HEEEEEEE!!”

Even Plague Knight wasn’t sure if he was laughing or screaming, but when he reached the other side safely, he was nearly grateful enough to steady himself on the Shovel Knight’s offered arm. Nearly.

“That was a little bit loud,” commented the Knight, warily, “But I think we haven’t woken the beast.”

The Dozedrake indeed remained peacefully sleeping, belching out its miraculous bubbles. Plague Knight turned woozily back to gaze across the pit. Mona stood on the other side, hesitantly.

“Are you frightened, miss?” called the Knight, as softly as he could.

Mona shook her head.

“I just don’t think I’m quite as aerodynamic as you two,” she replied.

She took a few tentative steps back and forth. Plague Knight unconsciously mimicked her shakily from his end of the chasm, his mind already swarming with half-formed ideas of how to ferry her across.  
Suddenly, Mona took a few steps back, then whirled forwards in an almost dance-like movement. Seconds later, she was directly in front of Plague Knight, so close that she nearly bowled him over. She stumbled, trying not to trip over her smaller companion. Shovel Knight stepped forward and helped steady her.

“Phew… Wow… I can’t believe that worked,” Mona muttered.

“Good heavens! Are you a user of magic?” asked the Knight, sounding impressed.

“No, she’s a cabbage farmer, hee!” quipped Plague Knight, quietly.

The Knight didn’t seem to hear, but Plague Knight saw Mona’s face twitch. 

“I’m… working on it,” Mona mumbled in reply, finally righting herself properly and brushing down her robes, “Let’s… just get out of here.”

“Well said,” whispered the Shovel Knight, beckoning them to a passage behind the sleeping dragon.

After traveling down the earthen corridor and fighting off a couple more skeletal aggressors, the group emerged onto a grassy expanse. The sun was just setting, shooting pink and orange rays into the darkening sky. Just ahead, Plague Knight noticed another knight standing some ways away amongst the long, waving grass. They were tall and slim, and dressed in a suit of armour so red and shiny that when it reflected the light of the setting sun, it seemed to glow like an ember. The figure was carrying a pair of shields, one small, and one large enough to cover their entire body.

The knight turned as the group emerged, then threw up their hand.

“HAIL, SHOVEL KNIGHT!” she called.

“HAIL, SHIELD KNIGHT!” Shovel Knight responded, joyously. 

He turned to his charges, “Here is my beloved comrade in arms! I must go to her. But worry not! We are at the end of our journey! The Village lies just ahead.”

“Thank you, brave sir Knight,” Mona said, putting on The Voice again, “We will never be able to thank you enough…”

“Think nothing of it!” cried Shovel Knight, before performing some kind of salute with his shovel, then dashing off to reunite with his companion, “Farewell!”

“Can I bomb him? Just a little one? Pretty please?” whispered Plague Knight, as the Knight went out of earshot. 

Mona yawned, “I want food.”

“…Me too.”

The pair made their way down the grassy expanse, looking hungrily ahead at the shadows of buildings dotted with glowing yellow lights.  
Entering the Village proper had them come face to face with yet another knight. He appeared to be the regular, garden-variety, however. 

“Halt! No weapons beyond this point!” cried the knight.

“No weapons here,” replied Plague Knight, innocently. 

The knight pushed up his visor and eyed them suspiciously. 

“Show me what you’ve got in your robes…”

“Hee! You pervert!” squealed Plague Knight clutching his cloak around himself, teasingly, “What kind of Village IS this?!”

“You know what I meant,” growled the guard. 

Mona stepped forwards and showed him the supplies strapped to the inside of her robes.

“Just some sacks and vials,” she said, flatly. 

The knight squinted at Mona’s face for a few moments.

“You…”

“I..?”

He seemed to be about to continue, before noting the look in Mona’s eyes and thinking better of it. He looked through her inventory thoroughly before leaning back, satisfied. He turned to Plague Knight again, frowning, “What about you?”

Plague Knight was about to make another quip, but he remembered how tired Mona had said she was. He was also feeling rather exhausted by this point, and the possibility of making more Sweet Vitriol was enough to induce a rare moment of civility.

“Heh, here,” he said, showing off his supplies, “Same thing. We’re just a pair of wandering alchemists…”

“Alchemists?” asked the knight, suspiciously, getting in close to inspect the objects nestled in Plague Knight’s cloak, “What’s an alchemist?”

Plague Knight and Mona both blinked.

“It’s… You don’t know?”

“No. Never heard of it. Is it some kind of newfangled performance art?” 

Plague Knight choked, a little. Mona stepped in, quickly.

“It’s a type of science…”

“Science..?”

“It’s… It’s like magic, but more concrete..? Tangible?”

“Oh, you’re magicians! Well, then, so long as you don’t cause any trouble…”

“Well, it’s LIKE magic, but–” Mona floundered, but quickly gave up as the knight stepped out of the way. 

Without a word, Mona hurried into the Village, and Plague Knight scuttled after her.

“Did you hear that?” she hissed, as she bustled along, “He… He didn’t even know what alchemy was!”

“Heh, indeed,” replied Plague Knight, “Perhaps he’s just uncommonly stupid, heehee?”

“I… Gods, I hope so,” mumbled Mona, uncomfortably. 

It was certainly an unnerving idea that alchemy might be an unknown practice in this land. It posed two possibilities, one much more promising than the other. If the villagers did not know what alchemy was, there was a chance they could be easily impressed by it, thereby assuring their success. On the other hand, people tended to be very suspicious of the unknown. There was an equal chance that the villagers would reject their art, or else see it as a series of unimpressive parlour tricks. Plague Knight’s stomach twisted at the very thought. Or maybe that was just hunger…

As luck would have it, a tavern was quite close by. It was a large establishment, with several floors. There were a few people milling about, most of which were gathered around an old man standing beside a cauldron. He was dressed in the shimmering blues of a Magicist, and doling out a glimmering liquid to his patrons. Beside him, a pretty young woman stood taking notes… or at least, trying to. She seemed a little distracted. She wasn’t the only one, however. Plague Knight noticed Mona ignoring her surroundings and following her nose to another station. The air surrounding it was thick with the delicious smell of food. A man in a red vest was standing at a kitchenette, poring over a large frying pan. Mona was already making a beeline for him. 

“Um, hi,” she said, sounding uncertain but rather urgent, “You sell… food?”

It was strange to see Mona acting so undignified. She must be really hungry. The man turned, smiling brightly.

“Hello my dear lady, your guess is quite right! I’m the Gastronomer, may I help you tonight?”

“Well, yes, I–“

“If you have a ticket, I’ll make you a meal! Just hand me that paper, it’s really a steal!”

“…I don’t have a ticket. Is there a place where I can–“

“Ask the Goatician! He’s somewhere below– His prices are steep, but it’s worth it, you know!”

Mona exhaled through her nostrils and spoke very carefully, “Thanks. I’ll just be going there, now.”

She walked briskly back to Plague Knight, who was trying to suppress his giggles.

“Laugh, and I’ll teleport you to the moon,” she growled.

Plague Knight continued to stifle his snickers, “I just… Can’t believe it. He speaks. In rhyme. Completely seriously– does he even know he’s doing it, hee?!”

“I don’t care,” grumbled Mona, looking around for this fabled ‘Goatician.’

The Goatician, it turned out, was in fact, a goat. He was standing nearby, chewing on a piece of paper. Mona approached him.

“You’re the Goatician?”

“Yes! How did you–”

“You sell meal tickets?”

“I come by them, sometimes. Would you like one?”

Mona thrust her hand into her robes and pulled out her coin purse. She removed a fistful of gold and practically shoved them in the Goatician’s face. The goat faltered, gingerly taking the currency from Mona’s hand. 

“T-that should be about enough,” he stammered.

Plague Knight could feel a sort of violent heat radiating off of Mona as she towered over the trembling goat. He was privately glad that he was not bearing the brunt of it. The Goatician shakily handed Mona a glimmering slip of paper, and she practically snatched it out of his hands.

“Thanks. C’mon, Plague Knight.”

She marched back to the Gastronomer and fairly slammed the ticket down in front of him.

“Feed. Me.”

The Gastronomer took the meal ticket and set to work, “I’ll dazzle your palate in no time or less–“

Mona ignored him and sat down at an available table, looking frazzled. Plague Knight sat down next to her.

“Heh. You alright, Mona..?”

Mona stared stonily ahead.

“…I’m really hungry, Plague Knight,” she said, and her voice came out surprisingly soft and plaintive, “And stressed out. And tired. And…” 

She let out a deep sigh and cradled her head in her hands. Plague Knight felt a pang of worry for his partner. He’d never seen her this run-down; their travels must have really taken a tole on her. It made sense… Though Plague Knight had frail health, he was used to living outdoors and going hungry. Mona had been born to nobles, and had never wanted for anything in her life. Nothing concrete, anyway. She was putting up with roughing it quite well for someone like that, but he supposed everyone had their breaking point.

“…I’ll be okay, once I eat,” she said, finally, “Um. Thanks.”

“Thanks?” 

“For asking. I guess.”

Plague Knight wasn’t sure what to make of that. But he didn’t need to think about it, as the Gastronomer slid a silver platter in front of them.

“Here is your meal, so bon appetit! Please do enjoy, until next we meet!”

With that, the chef was off to greet some newly arrived customers, who had their own tickets.  
Mona quickly uncovered the dish and inhaled deeply.

“Ahh. Amazing. Dig in,” she said, picking up her own cutlery and going to town.

Plague Knight peered at the dish, curiously. As luck would have it, the stuff was a rich, creamy sort of stew, which could easily be slurped down a straw. He stuck his straw right into the bowl and slurped away, while Mona worked along diligently with her spoon. It tasted magnificent, probably better than anything he’d ever eaten before in his life. 

Once the entire thing was successfully consumed, Mona leaned back in her chair with a soft sigh.

“Feeling better?” Plague Knight asked, quietly.

Mona’s eyes slid towards him, and she gave him one of her not-smiles.

“Heh. Yeah. You?”

“Well, I’ve never tasted anything like this, hee! What is it? Some kind of rich-people soup?”

“It’s called Bisque,” replied Mona, “But, yeah. Rich people soup. Maybe I’ll learn how to make it, someday.”

‘That would be nice.”

The next order of business was to find a place to stay for the night. The tavern had a juice bar, a keg room and several other services, but no rooms to rent. Not for sleeping, anyway. Mona seemed undaunted, however, the bisque having given her a shot of energy. They left the tavern, and Plague Knight walked beside her along the darkened streets, keeping his eyes peeled for any kind of suitable establishment.  
Eventually, they came across a small, shabby inn. Mona was able to acquire a room with two beds for a fair price, and the pair were soon trooping up the stairs to make use of it.  
The room was small and shabby like the inn itself, but there were indeed two straw beds, and Mona flopped onto one of them, not even bothering to pull back the covers.

“G’night,” she muffled into her pillow.

“Heh, er, goodnight, Mona.”

Plague Knight watched the rise and fall of her back slow down as she fell asleep. He realized he’d been watching for entirely too long, after a moment, and quickly climbed onto his own bed. He didn’t often sleep, as his usual supplements kept him full of a nervous energy. But he was without them, now, and it was probably best to rest his poor, aching body. The fog of sleep was already clouding his brain, helped along by a wonderfully full stomach.  
Plague Knight pulled the covers off the bed, reshaped them into a sort of nest, and curled up in the middle, tucking his head under his arm. Within moments, unconsciousness had claimed him.  
It was the first peaceful sleep he’d had in months.


	2. In the Halls of the King

Plague Knight awoke the next morning into shafts of dusty golden light. He found himself feeling surprisingly refreshed, if a little stiff. He sat up gingerly and stretched, hearing a couple of rather nasty cracking sounds as he did. The room they had rented was more clearly visible now that it was lit by early morning sunshine. The floorboards were uneven and the sheets were rather stained. Cracks ran up the walls, and there was a slight draft coming from the windows. Yet, there was an undeniable feeling of homeyness present in the little chamber. Or perhaps Plague Knight’s perception was skewed; he tended to view any temporary and non-hostile refuge as homelike.   
He glanced over to the other bed, where Mona was laying. Her face was still pressed into her pillow, but she didn’t quite seem to be asleep. He could see her fingers drumming along the bedspread beside her. 

“G’morning,” she muffled, confirming his suspicions. 

“Good morning to you,” Plague Knight replied, shuffling to the edge of his bed, “What are you… doing?”

“…Weighing our options…”

She sat up, then, rubbed her eyes, and yawned.

“I’ve been up for a while. Just thinking.”

“I see… Does laying flat on your face help with that, heehee?”

“Well, it keeps things nice and dark,” she replied, with a shrug, “And what I’m considering is best considered in a peaceful-ish place.”

“Oh..?”

Mona grimaced. Whatever was on her mind was not doing her mood any favours.

“…Let’s just find something to eat, first. I need food in me for this.”

“Heh, agreed. Combining whatever you’re thinking of with an empty stomach sounds like your own personal recipe for disaster, heehee! So! Back to the tavern?”

“Gods, no,” shuddered Mona, “I’m not going through that again. Come on, there’s got to be someplace else we can get food.” 

 

Now that it was daytime, and both of them had had a proper rest, Plague Knight and Mona were free to explore the Village and get a feel for the new land they’d entered.  
It was a clean, lively, mid-sized place, filled with people going about their daily business. Large men with sacks slung over their shoulders trundled along, passed quickly by teenagers carrying baskets of mushrooms, watched by Mares and Does chatting animatedly as they had their morning strolls. The buildings were all modest constructs of wood, wattle and daub, with the occasional stone edifice here and there.  
Plague Knight wasn’t used to being able to walk around freely without a disguise. He kept glancing over his shoulder at the slightest sound of clanking, but he never received any more trouble than a few curious looks and whispers. Mona was getting them, too. Plague Knight supposed they made a very odd looking pair; him, with his mask, and her with her bright green skin. In fact, Mona was getting a lot of funny looks from passersby. She seemed to notice this, as she put her hood up and pulled her hands into her sleeves. 

“Heh. Somebody’s popular,” Plague Knight muttered, slyly.

“That’s not the word I’d choose,” Mona grumbled back, “I’m a freak.”

“We’re both freaks, then,” Plague Knight replied, comfortably.

He saw Mona glance down at him.

“…You’re not a freak,” she muttered.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what was under this mask, heehee!”

“Are you going to show me?”

“Nope!”

“Hmph.”

She turned back to the road in a huff, but suddenly froze. Plague Knight tilted his head curiously as he watched her lift her nose to the wind and inhale deeply. 

“Bread smell,” she whispered, eagerly.

Plague Knight perked up and sniffed, as well. Despite his slightly impaired sense of smell, he discovered that there was indeed the wonderful, heady scent of bread coming from ahead. Mona was already sweeping off towards it, and Plague Knight had to pick up his pace a little to follow her.

‘Heh! Curse those long legs of hers,’ he thought, trotting after her. 

By the time they arrived at what seemed to be a little bakery, Mona’s purse was already out of her robes. Plague Knight wondered just how many coins fit inside that thing as she approached the counter.  
Plague Knight let her converse with the baker, preferring to lean against the wall and wait. He didn’t much like talking to people. He could see that Mona wasn’t particularly comfortable with doing it either, but she was the one with the gold, after all.

A few moments later, she’d returned to his side with three loaves of bread in a sack. 

“Breakfast and lunch. Maybe dinner,” she muttered, “Everyone behind the counter wouldn’t stop gawking. Ugh. I wish I could turn my stupid amulet back on.”

She was referring to the blue jewel that hung at her breast. It had once been home to a powerful glamour spell that had hindered her magic and hidden her true appearance. Neither of them knew exactly why her parents had enchanted it so, but this might have been at least part of the reason. 

“I already stood out enough because of my height. I don’t need more reasons for people to stare. I hate this…”

“Let them stare, while they can! When you figure out how to control your magic, you can blind them all! Heehee!” Plague Knight chirped, cheerily, “Or I could, if you like. I was working on some, heh, flash-bangs a little while ago…”

Mona’s lips twitched. 

“It’s fine. Let’s just go find somewhere to eat. I’m going to pitch you that idea I was mulling over this morning.”

The two alchemists left the bakery and scouted around for a suitable place to lunch. Eventually, they found a tree a little ways away from the busy main street and sat down under it. Mona pulled a loaf of bread out of her sack and tore it carefully in half.

“Here.”

“Thanks! I’ll eat it later.”

“Oh, come on, Plague Knight, you have to eat it before it goes stale,” Mona sighed in exasperation as she tore into her own half of the loaf, “Just take off your mask. I honestly don’t care what’s under there.”

“Heh. Let me put it this way,” Plague Knight replied, stowing his bread inside an empty sack in his robes, “If you think you’re a freak, you don’t know what a freak is.” 

Though Mona’s expression didn’t change much, he noticed that her eyes grew slightly round. Then she promptly turned away from him. Was she mad that he wouldn’t show his face? Well, she’d have to stay mad. Nobody outside his homeland had ever seen under his mask, and it was going to stay that way. He received enough abuse as it was without people knowing the truth. Mona wasn’t the only one getting stared at in the streets.

Mona promptly stood up and walked away from the tree, silently. Plague Knight hopped up, in confusion. 

“Mona?”

“Stay there.”

He hesitated, then stayed put and watched her bustle away. Where was she going? Was she abandoning him? …No, she wasn’t that petty. Maybe she needed some time to cool down? Was she really that upset? Did his face fascinate her so much? He sat down under the tree and frowned at the palms of his hands.

‘She can’t know. Heh. I want her to stay around.’

About ten minutes later, Mona was back. She was holding a pair of bottles in her hands.

“What’s that?” Plague Knight piped up, curiously.

“These are for you. That one’s to drink, the other one’s for your Sweet.”

Plague Knight blinked. He reached up and took the bottles from Mona’s hands. One appeared to be full of thick broth. It was warm to the touch. The other was, unmistakably, Aqua Vitae.

“I… Where did you get these?”

“Went exploring,” Mona replied, casually, not meeting his eyes, “You’d better make good use of those. Spent the last of our cash on them.”

“Oh…”

Plague Knight fidgeted, looking downwards, “Uhm, you didn’t need to–“

“I’ll stop asking about your mask,” she interrupted him, “…It’s… I’m not… I didn’t…”

She seemed to be struggling with what she wanted to say. She did that a lot. 

“…I’m sorry.”

Plague Knight held the bottles tightly in his little fists. He felt rather guilty, all of the sudden. A feeling he didn’t often experience, but one that Mona seemed to be able to make him feel with alarming acuteness. He couldn’t quite process what had just happened, but he got the sense that Mona felt she’d wronged him and was trying to make up for it. Not that she needed to. 

“Heh, it’s… nothing. Forget it. Thanks for these. I’ll, heh, make short work of them!”

He retreated to the base of the tree and motioned for her to join him. She rustled over to him and sat down, returning to her half-eaten chunk of bread. Plague Knight popped his straw into the bottle of broth and sipped. It tasted good. Sort of chickeny. 

“So, what was that pitch you were talking about?”

“Oh, that,” Mona took a deep breath, then splayed her fingers across her knees, “I think we should try to ingratiate ourselves with the ruler of this land.”

Plague Knight nearly choked on his broth, “We– We should what?!”

“I know, I know. It probably seems weird to you, but we’re making a fresh start, here,” Mona picked at her dusty robes, glumly, “Nobody knows you’re a criminal. Nobody knows who we are, at all, as far as I can tell. I mean, we haven’t been jumped by the local constabulary yet, so…”

“Hee! Right…”

“So, I think this time we should try to do things… semi-legal.”

“Why?”

“It’s… well, believe it or not, it’ll be easier that way,” Mona fetched her book out of her satchel and opened it to look over her notes, “If we make our intentions known to the King, we can set up a foundation of trust. Make sure there aren’t any annoying obstacles to procuring that fort of yours. We might even be able to score some funding if we play our cards right.”

“But I don’t want to be a royal alchemist,” Plague Knight complained, “They’ll try to force me into a box! Employ me for their own ends! I’m not some civil servant– HEE! I’m a scientist!”

“I’m not saying we take up a position in the court,” Mona shuddered, “I am definitely not saying that. But if we generally make the King aware of our presence, it’ll be easier to explain away any funny business if or when it comes up. I’m guessing ‘when’ is more probable.”

She gave Plague Knight a look, and he grinned back at her from behind his mask. She couldn’t see it, but he could tell she could feel it.

“Look. I don’t want to do it either. But I know the benefits of networking with nobles. I just think we should pay a quick visit, make an extra nice impression, and see what we can get before we go ahead and do whatever we want.”

Plague Knight sighed, “Oh, alright. I suppose you know more about it than I do. So, how do we set up an audience with a King?”

Mona flipped a page in her book, “We start off by making a good impression. We’re going to want to be really, really smooth about this. First of all, we need proper clothes.”

Mona started sketching, quickly. Plague Knight leaned forwards in interest. Slowly, their forms took shape; Mona, tall and graceful, and Plague Knight, short, but surprisingly dignified. 

“I passed a little tailors in the street,” she said, “But we won’t be able to afford its wares. I’m thinking we should… have a little raid.”

Plague Knight began wiggling unconsciously in anticipation. 

“I like, I like! Heeheehee!”

“Heh. Of course you do,” Mona tried to mask the ghost of a smile, but failed, somewhat, “Anyway. We should scout out a noble’s estate, filch a suit or two, then bounce. I’ll know what we’re looking for, so you can do the watch-keeping this time.”

“Hee! Whatever you say!”

“I spoke with a couple of villagers. The King lives at Pridemoor Keep, which is just north of here. His court should be hanging around nearby. First big house we see, we should hit.”

“Got it! When do we leave?”

“As soon as you’re done with your lunch.”

Plague Knight finished his broth quite quickly, what with that new incentive dangling deliciously in front of him. He did, however, take some time to synthesize a fresh batch of his beloved Sweet Vitriol. A little Aqua Vitae, a little Oil of Vitriol, a little heat, and his special bottle was full once again.   
Once the concoction was complete, Plague Knight eagerly inhaled a lungful of the stuff. His brain and body reacted instantly, a rush of relief sweeping through him. 

“Ahhh… Heehee! Boom!”

He could see Mona frowning out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored her. He could already feel the wonderful buzz that always filled his mind extending down into his tired limbs. 

“Let’s go!” he cheered, “The King awaits!”

Mona rolled her eyes and straightened her skirts.

 

The road to Pridemoor keep was not a long one. The land was lush and fertile, and a lot of it was populated by farms.

“I’d suggest we ask where the nearest estate is,” Mona said, thoughtfully, “But I don’t want to risk having witnesses. It’ll already be suspect when a couple of strangers show up in clothing that will probably be identified as stolen, later…” 

“Heehee! Are you sure you thought this plan out all the way through, Mona?” teased Plague Knight.

Mona scowled, “You got any better ideas?”

“Nope! And besides, I like your plan, anyway.”

Mona rolled her eyes and turned away in exasperation. Plague Knight tittered to himself. His spirits were soaring, lifted by the combination of Sweet Vitriol and the promise of a raid. 

Eventually, the pair spied a large house on the horizon. It was bigger than the nearby barns, and seemed to be surrounded by a beautiful orchard.

“Definitely an estate,” said Mona, smirking, “We’re going to want to be careful. Everyone employed here will want our heads on a platter if they catch us. Bagging an intruder means all sorts of rewards.”

“Heehee! Let them try,” Plague Knight giggled, eagerly. He knew that this would be a stealth-based mission, but should something go awry…

“Okay… Our best bet is to wait till nightfall and get in through one of the servant entrances.”

“Can’t we just go in now?” 

“Not if you want to keep all this a secret.”

Plague Knight sighed and tucked his hands into his robes to stop them fidgeting, “Fiiiine. But what shall we do to pass the time, hee?”

“Well, we should find a place to lie in wait, first…”

 

The pair eventually made their way to a dense cluster of trees in the orchard outside the manor house. There were a few gardeners and harvesters to avoid, but the two were so used to sneaking around that it was no trouble at all.   
Plague Knight found himself becoming extremely antsy. He really hated waiting. Most of his plans were either spur-of-the-moment, or in constant preparation. Mona seemed to notice his fevered pacing, because she reached up into a nearby tree and pulled an apple out of it. 

“Catch.”

She tossed him the apple, and he leapt up and caught it.

“Hee! Not this again, Mona! You promised!”

“I don’t want you to eat it. Throw it back.”

Plague Knight cocked his head in slight confusion, but obliged anyway. Mona caught the apple, then tossed it back at him. He leapt up and caught it again, deftly.

“Heehee! What on earth are you doing?!”

“Playing catch with you, dummy,” she retorted, planting her hands on her hips, “Haven’t you ever played catch before?”

Plague Knight shook his head. Games were sort of a distant background noise to his life, played by normal people with normal lives. He had a vague inkling of the purpose of catch, but he’d never been asked to join in. Mona was slightly turquoise in the cheeks and scowling deeply.

“If you don’t want to play, then–“

“No, heh, I do! It’s as good a distraction as any, hee!”

Mona pursed her lips, then held out her hand. Plague Knight tossed the apple back at her, and she dove gracefully to catch it.

This turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable diversion, made a little more exciting by the fact that they had to stay hidden whilst playing.   
Plague Knight happily dipped and darted around the tiny space, avoiding tree trunks as Mona lobbed the apple at him again and again. She was surprisingly good at receiving the thing herself, despite her larger frame and slower reflexes.   
Eventually, the sun began to dip below the horizon, bathing the area in a warm, orange light. Mona caught the apple one last time, then turned and gazed up through a hole in the canopy of leaves above. She stood there, staring at the patch of sky for a while. Plague Knight watched her curiously for some time, before scuttling over to join her. He poked his beak skyward to see what had entranced her so.   
There were clouds, above; soft, powdery, piecemeal clouds that were reflecting the light of the setting sun. They were pink and orange and yellow and purple, all arrayed in the loveliest way possible. 

“Heh, pretty,” mumbled Plague Knight, breaking the silence. 

Mona jumped a little, then wrapped her cloak around herself, tightly.

“Yeah… I was just thinking what it would take to make a bomb that detonated like that…”

“Like the clouds?”

“Mhm…”

“Heh, well, you’d need a lot of pigments,” Plague Knight mused, “Gypsum, for the orange… Powder of Cryolith for the yellow… Salt of Strontianite should burn red, and… We could mix that and some kind of copper compound to create purple… Hee! But that’s the easy part! The difficulty lies in the shaping and the composition..!” 

Mona remained silent, but he could tell she was listening. There was a flurry of activity going on behind her eyes, he just knew it. He cracked a smile behind his mask. It was times like these that he was especially glad that he’d decided to befriend Mona. Not that he would have left her behind– her alchemical talents were far too great to ignore. Revealing the truth about that hellish school had been a must– leaving her to languish there would be a horrific waste and a crime against his beloved practice.

A moment later, crickets were chirping, and the grounds had been submerged in the inky blue darkness of night. Only the moon shone palely through the trees, giving them a hint of illumination to see by.

“Alright. It’s time,” said Mona, tossing the apple into the grass and making her way silently towards the manor. 

Plague Knight followed, a tiny shadow inside hers. He kept close to her, so that he could listen to the rest of her instructions.

“Hopefully the servants will all be in bed or on evening duty by this point,” whispered Mona, “So we’ll be able to sneak up to the bedchambers without much fuss…” 

“And what’s our plan B if things go wrong?” replied Plague Knight, quietly.

“Hoods up. We run,” said Mona, simply.

Plague Knight personally would have preferred something involving explosions and mockery, but his bandit days were behind him. He had a future to think about. The creation of his lab would take careful planning, manpower and lots of funding. And he trusted Mona’s methods; if she said having an audience with the King would help their endeavour, he believed her, no matter how much he disliked the idea on principle. 

It took them a few minutes to exit the orchard and skirt around the side of the building, looking for the servant’s quarters. There were sentinels in the grounds, now, leaning against pikes, but they were easily distracted by a carefully lobbed smoke bomb by the orchard. While they were all standing around, scratching their helmets, Mona located a small side-door of the right description.

“Okay. It’s probably locked. Can you pick locks?”

“Hee! I wouldn’t be a very good bandit if I couldn’t, would I?”

Plague Knight tiptoed forwards and pulled a few implements out of his robes. He hadn’t picked a lock in a while, but he was confident that he could manage it. After a few moments, he let out a satisfied little breath as the door clicked open.

“Heehee! After you!”

Mona crept through the door, carefully, and Plague Knight snuck in after her. Inside was a small, but well-kept corridor leading to a flight of stairs. The stairs lead to a small room with a table in the centre. There were tables placed against the walls as well, all supporting various objects that were a little hard to make out in the dim light. Plague Knight recognized the spires of candles and the dome of a covered dish.  
He felt Mona move away from him, and turned to see her searching the walls.

“There’s usually a set of keys,” she said, “As well as some bells… They might be a little further on, but– ah!”

Mona had discovered a small board on the wall. She busied herself at it, doing something Plague Knight couldn’t quite make out. When she turned back, she held several keys up in front of his beak.

“Ready to be quieter than you ever have in your life?”

Plague Knight nodded, suppressing a giggle. 

Mona navigated the house as if she’d lived in it her entire life. Plague Knight, meanwhile, simply stared around in awe, entranced by the dim shadows of luxury. He was sure it would be far more spectacular once lit up, but it was difficult to believe what he could hardly see already. The floors were all polished wood, decorated by soft carpets. The walls had lavish tapestries and paintings hung from them as if they were afraid of having a blank space. The ceilings were arched, supported by shiny oaken beams, and once or twice he thought he caught a glimpse of the twinkle of a crystal chandelier. 

Had Mona grown up in a place like this? It didn’t seem possible… She was elegant, certainly, and when she was especially haughty she exuded a sort of regal air… But she didn’t seem like the type of bird to live in this gilded cage. He couldn’t imagine her fluttering a fan in front of her nose or playing a harpsichord or whatever other nonsense rich people did. Though he supposed he did get the sense from her vague mentions of her family that they hadn’t gotten along. She hadn’t quite fit in, it seemed… and that made sense. When Plague Knight thought of Mona, he thought of clever, glittering eyes, the strong stench of chemical fumes and their shared sense of boundless curiosity… Mona was too big for a place like this. And that had nothing to do with her height.

“Here,” Mona’s whisper cut through the darkness, pulling Plague Knight out of his musings, “This one.”

There was a soft creak as Mona opened a door and slipped inside. Plague Knight tiptoed after her, and squinted around. The room inside was split into three. Where they were standing, there was a wash stand, a large mirror, several stools and plenty of anonymous bits and bobs that only the wealthy could afford. Right in the centre, however, was their target. A huge, intricately carved armoire. 

Mona motioned to the left, and Plague Knight looked over to see an open doorway. Through there was a room painted with all sorts of lively patterns. In the middle was a great big fourposter bed. The curtains were drawn. Listening closely, the sound of breathing could be heard from within. 

He turned back and nodded, indicating he understood the risk. Mona returned the gesture in affirmation, then crept to the armoire. She opened its doors as gently as she possibly could, then leaned inside. She drew back, a few moments later, shaking her head.

“No good– Can’t see,” she hissed.

Plague Knight glanced to the bedroom for a moment, before withdrawing a flare from his robes.

“Hold your cloak up,” he whispered, “Block the light!”

Mona picked up the edge of her cloak and held it at arms length against the doors of the armoire. Plague Knight darted around her, then lit the flare. Reddish light played over the inside of the expensive wardrobe, showing off the gowns inside. Mona reached out her free hand to paw through them. Eventually, she tugged out one from the very back. 

“Looks like the unfavourite,” Mona whispered, “Not too fancy, but never worn. It’s good.”

She rolled it up and stuffed it quickly into her robes, then motioned for Plague Knight to follow her closely. He hide behind her raised cloak, making sure to keep his flare out of sight.   
Once they were out of the room, Mona swept quickly down the hall and made for another large, fancy door. 

The room inside was much the same as the previous one, though with a slightly more masculine feel to it. It must belong to the head of the house. Mona once again raided the large wardrobe inside, but seemed consternated again. 

“What’s wrong?” whispered Plague Knight.

Mona crouched, slightly, to speak over the snores coming from the other room, “Too big. This guy’s enormous. You’d be swimming in his clothes…” 

“Ah…” 

Plague Knight winced. Once again, his diminutive stature had ruined things. At least if he’d been taller, they could have cinched the clothing up a little and it wouldn’t look too awful…

“Now what?”

Mona shut the wardrobe and made for the door again, “There were three service bells. One more chance…”

The final room was set up much the same as the other two, with the same structure and lively decorations. There was a slightly different air to it, however. While Mona set to work at the wardrobe, Plague Knight crept over to the doorway to the bedroom. The walls were painted with intricate designs, like the other rooms. But these ones seemed to actually depict something; scenes of knights and their steeds riding into battle, fair maidens sitting in towers, dragons breathing fire…   
Plague Knight took a few steps into the room, curiously. There was a large chest at the end of the fourposter bed. Surely they wouldn’t leave treasure lying around in the open like this? Not that a bedroom was exactly ‘in the open’, but gold was best kept in vaults or guarded by some kind of dangerous beast.   
Just as Plague Knight was wondering if this room belonged to the family guard dog -and he wouldn’t put it past a noble to do something like that- there was a little cough from the bed. Plague Knight froze.

“W-whoever’s out there… I can hear you… A-and I-I’m not afraid!” said a very frightened voice from the other side of the hangings. 

A child. Oh damnation. Plague Knight was very apprehensive of children. He could generally anticipate what an adult would do based on a few key observations, such as build and level of cursing, but children were unpredictable. There had been one incident at a fort where he’d entered a seemingly empty room only to discover a child hiding under the table. Rather than screaming and running, the kid had snatched up a nearby hammer and nearly broken Plague Knight’s shin.   
He was going to have to play this very carefully.

“Heehee,” he whispered, “You should be afraid, little boy! I’m a nightmare monster, and I’ve come to gobble you up!”

There was a shuffling from behind the hangings, and Plague Knight quickly added, “If it weren’t for these magic curtains, I’d surely have done so already, haha!”

“M-magic curtains?” whimpered the boy.

“Oh, no! Pretend you didn’t hear that,” replied Plague Knight, fiendishly, “Fancy hangings like these are most certainly not a nightmare monster’s only weakness! Now, why don’t you open the curtains a little, boy? I’ve got lots of toys out here for you!”

“N-no way! You can’t trick me!” whined the boy, shuffling again, “Go away!”

“Hey, what are you doing in there?”

This time the whisper came from behind Plague Knight. He turned to see Mona staring at him from the doorway.

“Coming, my fellow nightmare monster!” hissed Plague Knight, before adding over his shoulder, “The boy was too clever! Drat and curses! We’ll just have to go somewhere else to eat, heehee!”

“Wha..?”

Plague Knight was already tugging Mona out of the room by her robes before she could finish her confused utterance. 

“What were you doing in there?” she whispered.

“The kid woke up,” Plague Knight hissed back, “I was just keeping him quiet, hee!”

“Okay… Well, good news. I found you an outfit.”

Plague Knight’s heart sank, “Oh, no…”

“Oh yes.”

Plague Knight ran a hand down his beak. Great. He was going to be strutting into the King’s court in children’s clothes. 

“Don’t get your cloak in a knot,” Mona muttered, “You’ll only have to wear them once.”

“I’d better,” he grumbled. 

 

Back out in the night, Mona lead the two of them into the orchard, moving to the outer reaches of the area. Once she seemed satisfied that they were sufficiently out of the way, she sat down and opened her sack of bread.

“Here, you can…”

“I already have a half. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah…”

Mona chewed quietly on a hunk of bread as she leaned comfortably against a tree. Her eyes were focused on the starry sky. Plague Knight wondered if she was imagining more firmament-inspired explosives. When she was done eating, she lay down and curled up against the trunk of her tree.

“You can eat when I’m asleep, I guess,” she mumbled, wearily, “Goodnight, you little freak.”

Plague Knight cocked his head as she pulled her hood down over her face. Only she could speak a curse in a way that sounded like a complement. Maybe it was part of her magic.

Once he was sure she was asleep, he did indeed retreat a few feet into the forest and gingerly remove his mask. He withdrew his portion of bread and began tearing chunks out of it. Ah, what a treat. To eat something that wasn’t a liquid… to feel the night air on his face…   
After a few moments, he carefully replaced his mask and rejoined Mona at her tree. He lay down next to her, far enough away so that he wouldn’t knock into her accidentally in his sleep, then closed his eyes. He still wasn’t used to sleeping in such a way, and his mind was, as always, a hive of activity. But he found that listening to Mona’s breath lulled him into a stupor, and besides, he didn’t really have much else to do… Raiding the house was out of the question… They were on a stealth mission… Mona wouldn’t like…

The next thing he knew, there was dappled light all around him and Mona was gently prodding him awake.

“Hey. You. Rise and shine.”

Plague Knight jolted up and looked around. They were still in the orchard. Mona was–– Good lords.

Mona was standing beside him, looking absolutely ridiculous. She had changed into her stolen fineries, and the look was… something. The gown she’d purloined turned out to be bright pink and yellow, which clashed horribly with her skin and hair. It was obviously too small for Mona, both in length and width. The dress was tight around her shoulders and bunched up around her waist, clearly too slim to fit her wide hips until it flared out more. An ample amount of her boots were showing, and it appeared she’d tried to clean them, somewhat. 

Plague Knight began cackling. He couldn’t help it. She looked hilarious. 

“Shut up,” Mona snarled, “And put on your kiddy duds.”

Plague Knight continued giggling. Even if he had to suffer the indignity of wearing children’s clothing, at least Mona would have to suffer with him. He took the sharply offered garments from his partner and went tittering into the woods. To both his pleasure and chagrin, the silky tunic and tights actually fit rather well. He tucked most of his supplies into his cloak, then brought it over to where Mona had stowed hers. 

“Look at us!” he sneered, as he joined Mona by the edge of the orchard, “A couple of fancy fools, heehee!”

“We’ll blend right in,” said Mona, smirking, “Now, come on. I’ll explain how to act as we go.”

 

A few hours and an etiquette lesson later, Plague Knight and Mona found themselves at the outer walls of Pridemoor Keep. As they approached, Plague Knight took a quick whiff of Sweet Vitriol to keep his wits sharply about him. Who knew how wrong this could go?

“Halt!” cried one of the guards on duty, “Who goes there?!”

There were two of them standing by the gate, both dressed in gleaming armour and holding longswords.

“Greetings,” called Mona, in that special Voice of hers, “We are travellers from a foreign Kingdom. We have come to see the King.”

“For what purpose? State your business!” 

“We wish to speak to him on a matter of property and business. We are alchemists.”

“What?”

Mona glanced at Plague Knight.

“…Alchemists. Er, people of science?”

“What nonsense is this?”

Oh dear. Maybe alchemy really was unknown to this land… Plague Knight refused to be daunted, however. They just needed a little demonstration… 

“Heh, allow me to show you,” said Plague Knight, stepping forward. 

Mona flinched, but Plague Knight was already removing a bomb from his tunic. He held it up towards the two gleamingly-armoured guards.

“See this?”

“What manner of sphere is this?” asked one of the guards, leaning in.

“Ahh… A very tricky little sphere, indeed,” giggled Plague Knight, “The most powerful sphere in the world! It packs all the BOOM of a small cannon ball… and you don’t even need a canon!”

The other guard snorted, “Yeah, right.”

Plague Knight grinned gleefully under his mask. Oh, how he loved nonbelievers sometimes.

“Allow me to demonstrate…”

“Wait, now, just hold on a se––“

Plague Knight twisted the wick of his bomb and tossed it nonchalantly behind him. He saw Mona back away out of the corner of his eye. The bomb sailed through the air, then detonated against the ground with a loud BANG. Clods of earth sprayed everywhere, and the two guards drew their swords reflexively.

“Aaah!!”

“Holy Troupp!”

Plague Knight simply cackled. 

“Fool! You wish to bring weapons into the home of the King! Stay back, knave!”

The guards advanced menacingly with their swords drawn, but Mona quickly stepped in their way.

“Peace! Peace, brave guards,” she cried, dramatically, “Can you not see what my companion is trying to show you? This is only a demonstration of our great power and inventive intellect! We wish to share many a boon with the king, all of the same ingenious ilk! We beg only a moment of his time to consider our modest proposal…” 

The guards paused. Plague Knight could see they were mulling it over. 

“We shall hand over to you all of our stock,” said Mona, quickly, to help them along, “So that you will have no fear of these armaments being used upon your beloved sovereign…” 

One guard seemed to be buying it, while the other remained suspicious.

“And why should we trust you, madame? Your clothes are suspect…” he eyed Mona’s ill-fitting gown, “and you look as though you’ve been touched by evil!”

“I–– What?!”

“You bear the mark of dark arts!”

Mona momentarily glanced down at herself in confusion, before exhaling and visibly trying not to clench her fists. Plague Knight realized the guard was referring to her skin. 

“How dare you, good sir!” he piped up, quickly coming to stand beside Mona, “I am this lady’s physician, as you can see by my noble beak!”

He motioned to his mask, “And it is very rude of you to speak of her, so! She is already mortified by her condition! Uhhh… Beanstalkosis! This is the first time she’s set foot outside her estate, by troth! Shame! Shame!!!”

He could see Mona turning her wince into a embarrassed little swoon. He knew his overacting was bad, but the guards actually seemed to be listening. The more gullible of the two appeared to be rather guilty. 

“Oh… We apologize for our rudeness!”

“Ah––“

“We apologize!” the gentler guard stepped his partner’s toe, and he winced, “Please, come right this way. The King will be interested in what you have to offer him!”

“Right after you hand over your arsenal… as promised…” grumbled the other. 

Plague Knight reluctantly handed over the few bombs he’d brought along with him, in case of emergency. Then the two guards had the enormous gates behind them raised. The keep beckoned.

Inside was spectacular. It was a massive building, with great halls and turrets build of old, weathered stone. Candelabras and torches lit the corridors, and great alcoves held huge, gleaming suits of armour. The walls were draped in red hangings depicting Griffoths, and two of said living creatures were passed by, in fact, on the way up to the throne room. Plague Knight noticed that Mona swept a little closer to him as they approached. He scowled at the large beasts as they walked by them. They clicked their beaks uninterestedly and ignored him.   
The closer they came to the throne room, the more lavish the decorations became. They were different, however, to the noble’s house they’d raided. These trappings were less ostentatious and dramatic; they gained their impressiveness from their sombre but well-cared for appearance. The overall affect was subtle, but grand. Plague Knight would probably call it tasteful, if he knew anything about that sort of thing. Eventually, the little procession came to a halt in an antechamber. 

“Wait here,” said the friendlier of the two guards, “We shall announce your presence to His Majesty, and see if he will agree to speak with you.”

The gruffer of the guards moved onwards, presumably to the throne room. 

“Beanstalkitis, eh?” murmured Mona, too quietly for the guard to hear.

“Osis,” Plague Knight corrected her, gleefully, “Itis denotes an inflammation. Being tall and green is a little more permanent for you, I’d say, heehee!”

Mona snorted, quietly, then gazed around the hall. As she did so, a dull look came into her eyes, and she quickly looked back down at her lap.

“Something the matter..?” asked Plague Knight, tentatively. He knew what the dull look meant.

“No… I just… Haven’t been here, in a long time.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“No, not here, exactly… I mean, in a place like this. In the King’s… Yeah.”

Mona’s eyebrows knit. Plague Knight decided not to push the issue any further. He, personally, had never been into a King’s castle before. Kings always had the most well-trained guardsmen. A little too ambitious a task for a fledgling bandit like him. Not that he never wanted to try, but… well, one never wanted to bite off more than they could chew. Especially with a mouth like his. 

With a sudden clanking and a bang of grand wooden doors, the gruff knight returned.

“The King has agreed to see you,” he grumbled, “Step this way. And don’t try anything funny.”

Mona stood up gracefully and smoothed down her dress as best she could. Plague Knight tugged at his collar and tried to pull the rumples out of his tights.   
The guards lead them onwards toward the throne room. As they went they were joined by more sentries, all carrying swords. Plague Knight tried to keep his twitching to a minimum so as not to spook them, but he hated the feeling of being surrounded by clanking metal. In similar situations, he would be bouncing around like a Birder, trying to destroy everything in sight. He envied Mona’s ability to simply switch her emotions off like a machine. At this very moment, her face was as blank as unused paper. 

The procession stopped before a large iron door engraved with a pair of Griffoths. 

“What’s your names, again?” hissed one of the guards.

They hadn’t mentioned them, but Mona calmly answered, “Lady Mona Pines and Doctor Bertram Knight.”

Plague Knight noted the change in her own monicker, and snickered a little at his uncreative new surname. 

“Presenting to His Royal Majesty, King Pridemoor, Lady Mona Pines and Doctor Bertram Knight!” hollered the knight at the front of the procession.

The doors creaked open magnificently. Inside was… well, it suited the rest of the keep. Breathtaking, but in a very subdued, dignified way. The room was high-ceilinged and echoing, lit by the light pouring through several enormous windows set into each of the walls. The view outside them was majestic, consisting of the surrounding farmlands, the woods to the east and west, and the village to the south. Several handsome red Griffoth-banners flapped in the breeze that passed through.

‘Must get cold in the winter,’ thought Plague Knight, ‘And I’ll bet it’s a job for the guards to keep this silly King safe with so many entryways, heehee!’

Overall, a beautiful, but rather poorly designed space. A long, red, plush carpet lead to the centre of the room, where a single, imposing throne stood. A man sat in it, wrapped in a crimson cape to keep out the drafts. He had an open, innocent face, decorated by an auburn beard and moustache. Upon his head, of course, sat a stately, golden crown. Plague Knight idly wondered if it was pure or not. 

Mona quickly fell to her knee, bowing her head. Plague Knight scrambled to copy her. 

“Haha! Up you go, now! You may approach,” came the King’s jovial voice. 

Mona stood up and walked slowly towards the King, moving with a little more of her usual grace. Plague Knight endeavoured to follow her example, though he couldn’t keep his usual sprightliness out of his step.   
Mona curtsied low when she reached the foot of the throne, and Plague Knight bowed as well, letting the tip of his mask touch the ground. 

“Your Royal Majesty,” said Mona, reverently, “We are truly grateful for your most generous agreement to an audience…” 

“Ho! You are very welcome, my dear lady,” said the King, genially, leaning forwards on his throne to get a better look at his visitors, “My guards have told me you wish to speak to me on some business of bewitched bombs?”

“Erm, not… quite,” Mona faltered. 

Plague Knight could tell that she, like him, was still annoyed at the confusion between magic and alchemy. 

“We are… alchemists,” she explained, “We have the ability to forge many impressive and useful objects… like bombs, that could be of service to this great Kingdom. Though I do not wish to presume, of course, your Majesty. I am sure your armies are highly capable and properly disciplined!”

“That they are,” replied the King, “But your brand of magic intrigues me… I have never heard of this Alchemy before! Will you give me a demonstration?”

Mona pursed her lips as their beloved art was once again misnamed. 

“Y-yes, Your Majesty,” she said, “But we will need certain ingredients… if you would be so generous as to provide them, then we could show you the fruits of our occupation…”

“By all means! What do you require?”

This was all going very well, thought Plague Knight. Mona really knew what she was doing. He’d probably have tumbled over his words and insulted the monarch several times over by now. The man didn’t seem all that bright… Though, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

“Ah… Allow me to confer with my physician, for a moment, please, so as to decide how best to show you…”

The King nodded and waved his hand. Mona turned towards Plague Knight.

“Kind physician…” she mumbled, “What say you on the matter?”

“Well, my dear lady,” replied Plague Knight, trying not to giggle, “Perhaps we could demonstrate one of the explosives His Majesty’s guards confiscated from us? After all, that seems to be all anybody can talk about…” 

Mona’s eyes widened. She turned quickly to the King, “Yes–– We, ah– As your men have told you, we did come here with some explosives, yes.”

“Why don’t you try one out?” piped up Plague Knight, “It’s perfectly safe, so long as you give it a great big toss!”

There was dead silence. The King stroked his russet beard for a few moments. Plague Knight wondered if he’d spoiled things. He’d thought the King might like to actually test the product for himself; after all, this would be handing the power of the situation over to him. Kings liked power, didn’t they?   
To Plague Knight’s glee, his hunch was correct. The King fairly hopped off his throne and trundled down the red carpet.

“Why yes! I would very much like to test your enchanted explosives!”

“Sire, I don’t think––“ cried the gruff knight, nervously.

“Oh, hush, Tristan,” groused the King, “I should like to see this for myself!”

“Then at least let us test them first,” insisted Tristan, anxiously.

“Oh… very well…”

Tristan heaved a sigh of relief, then clapped his hands. A fellow knight marched forwards, holding the four remaining bombs Plague Knight had taken with him. Plague Knight stared after them, plaintively. His bombs...

Tristan took one, gingerly, then approached one of the large windows. The King rushed to his side.

“Stand back, Your Majesty,” Tristan cried, “Come hither once I’ve thrown the blasted thing..!”

The King acquiesced, and Tristan tossed the bomb. Plague Knight squawked. 

“NO, YOU MUSKMELLON,” he howled, “YOU HAVE TO LIGHT IT F––“

Mona kicked him in the shin and his shout became a whimper.

“My apologies,” she called, “What my dear physician means to say is, these bombs are not so easily deployed! As I said, they are very safe to use… the fuse must be lit before the bomb is thrown!”

“And how does one light the fuse?” asked Tristan, suspiciously.

“Twist it deftly between your thumb and forefinger,” replied Mona, “No flame is required.”

“Yes, yes,” said the King, impatiently, “Don’t waste them! There are only three left!”

Tristan squinted at Mona, deeply annoyed, then turned and did as he was told. As soon as he’d given the bomb a shaky twist, he let go of it. It dropped out the window like a brick. Plague Knight perked his ears in anticipation as he rubbed his twinging shin. 

BOOM!

There was a cry of excitement from the King, and Plague Knight wiggled in satisfaction. Excellent. His dear little bombs never failed him.

“You see, Tristan? Are you satisfied?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” grumbled Tristan, shooting Mona and Plague Knight a malignant look before returning to his post. 

The other knight handed King Pridemoor the penultimate of the remaining bombs. The king took it like a child receiving a toy, then clumsily twisted the wick. He drew his arm back and tossed the bomb as hard as he could. His aim, unfortunately, was off. The bomb sailed through the air, hit the edge of the window, and bounced back into the throne room. 

There was a moment of silent horror. Plague Knight was already on his feet by then, heading straight for the bomb. He really wished Mona hadn’t kicked him quite so hard, but he was nimble enough with his Sweet Vitriol in his system for this. With a swift kick, he sent the bomb sailing back out the window. It detonated in the air just outside, sending flames and shrapnel back the way it had come. Luckily, Mona had also dived for the bomb at the same time Plague Knight had. At his side, she grabbed the King and yanked him out of the way of the blast.

In seconds, the two alchemists were surrounded by a thicket of swords. Plague Knight braced himself, coiling like a spring.

“Hee! Back off, you tin-heads!” he crowed. 

Mona let go of the King and held up her hands in surrender, though her eyes flashed dangerously. But the King was already getting to his feet and picking up his crown, which had fallen off in the kerfuffle. 

“Stand down, you fools!” he cried, “Can’t you see that these brave alche-whatstits have saved my life?!”

“B-but Your High–“ shrieked Tristan, furiously. 

The King gave him a look that silenced him, immediately. The rest of the guards sheathed their swords and backed away. Plague Knight smirked with satisfaction. 

“Thank you, Lady Pines,” said the King, helping Mona to her feet, “And Doctor Knight. I am very impressed by your creations!”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Mona, a little shakily, “We are deeply honoured that you deign them with your favour.”

“Haha! I’ve never seen anything so diverting in my life!” chortled the King, joyfully, “Now… I believe you wished to speak on a matter of business?”

“Oh… Oh, yes,” Mona adjusted her skirts, “We have come to beg Your Majesty’s blessing on an acquisition of property… We have heard of a fort just east of here that has been left abandoned. We wish to acquire this fort so that we may expand our horizons to include yet more wondrous inventions. We are aware, however, that this Valley is under your reign… We wish only to ask your permission to take ownership of it.”

The King looked thoughtful, “An abandoned fort..? Oh! You mean the Slotholm Keep? Yes… Terrible tragedy, that. A necromancer passed by and overran the place with the undead…”

Hmph. Just as Plague Knight had heard.

“My jurisdiction does not extend quite that far… But to my knowledge, it is completely abandoned. If you can claim it, then you may have it,” said the King at length, smiling, “I look forward to hearing of your exploits!”

Plague Knight could barely contain his glee. It had worked! It had really worked! But Mona wasn’t done, yet.

“Your Royal Majesty,” she said, in her most honeyed of tones, bowing low, “We are humbled by your generosity. But, base creatures that we are, we must ask one final favour, if it behooves Your Royal Majesty to grant it…”

The King cocked his head, curiously, before smiling.

“I believe I know what you ask, already. I understand that building an empire takes time… and gold.”

Mona blinked up at him. Plague Knight stared.

“Which I have a considerable amount of!” finished the King, cheerily, “And your little bombs have delighted me so! Tell you what. If you make me a batch to play with properly… I shall give you a sum large enough to furnish that fort of yours, should you claim it.” 

Mona’s face split with a rather frightening grin. She seemed to know the uncanniness of her expression, however, because she quickly hid it by curtsying very deeply.

“Your are far too generous, Your Majesty,” she murmured, reverently, though Plague Knight could hear the excitement burbling behind her restraint, “We would be delighted to accept this most magnanimous offer.”

 

\- - -

 

“I can’t believe it.” 

Mona had managed to hold in her glee until they’d left the keep, but now that they were far enough away that the guards couldn’t see them, she was practically bursting at the seams. Possibly literally, considering the state of her stolen gown. Plague Knight had never seen her so jubilant before. That terrifying rictus grin was still plastered across her bright green face. 

“I can’t believe that worked– We pulled it off– We’ve got the fort and a huge commission in the bag and– Oh, Plaguey! It’s actually happening! Oh, I could just k… I could–– Heh, y-you really did it!”

Plague Knight cocked his head, feeling a flash of heat pass through his body.

“Uhhh… Did you just call me ‘Plaguey’?”

Mona stopped in her tracks, momentarily, her already flushed cheeks turning from teal to sky blue.

“I–– Hmm. I guess I did.” she folded her arms defensively, her grin shrinking into a thin little line of embarrassment, “So what? You call me Mona.”

“Yes, but you asked to be called that…”

“Well, fine! Sorry I said anything!” she squawked.

Plague Knight winced. He hadn’t realized his comment would set her off. He’d just been surprised that she’d called him a nickname. He’d had nicknames before, but none of them were exactly pleasant… 

“Heh, no, I, uhh–“ Plague Knight fumbled over his words, “I-I’m not upset, I’m just, heh, surprised! B-but I don’t mind, really! Heehee! Let’s just forget about it…”

Mona nodded, silently, but that not-smile look came back into her eyes.

“…Anyway. I’m really glad we did that. And… thanks. For taking that crazy risk. Royalty is terrifyingly capricious– I’d have never even thought of offering something like that, in case he had us beheaded or something.” 

“Heh. Guess it helps that I don’t know royalty,” replied Plague Knight, smirking behind his mask, “Do they really cut off peoples’ heads just like that? I’ve been threatened with gibbetting, gaunching, drawn-and-quartering… But never beheading.”

“Good lords, Plague Knight,” Mona sighed, “You really get under peoples’ skin, don’t you? I don’t even know what gaunching is.”

“And you don’t want to know,” said Plague Knight, fervently, “Trust me.”

There was a short silence.

“Oh, alright. It’s when they hoist you up on a high stick, then let you fall on a bunch of sharp hooks.”

Mona grimaced, “Blegh. What place practices that?!”

“…Well, I’m not sure if they actually practiced it,” Plague Knight admitted, truthfully, “It could have been one of those empty threats you give to someone you really, really hate. Because you can’t catch or punish them– HEEHEE!” 

Mona snorted, and rolled her eyes, but Plague Knight could tell she was amused. He grinned under his mask. How curious it was– he’d suddenly realized that he really quite liked to amuse her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks again for all your love and support; I'm happy to bring you the sequel to Primum Opus, and I hope you guys enjoy it! As you may have noticed, each chapter will be named after a song from the Soundtrack... which is going to get a bit awkward for certain chapters, but oh well.   
> Also, to answer one of the questions in a previous review, PK and Mona were 20/21 respectively in Primum Opus, and are closing in on 21/22 around this point. This story takes place a few years before the main game, and as you can probably tell by a few cameos, before the Order takes hold. 
> 
> Anyway! Hope you're all enjoyin'. Till next time! --TS


	3. Hidden by Night

By the time the two had dumped their stolen fineries back at the manor garden and gathered up all their supplies, it was already mid afternoon. The sun was warm on their heads as they returned to the village. The place was just as lively as when they’d left it, bustling with all manner of people. 

“Alright. Recruiting. Where should we start?” said Mona, briskly.

She seemed to be in an excellent mood after their earlier success. There was an eager glitter in her bottle-green eyes, and a funny little sway in her step. Plague Knight himself was feeling quite pleased with how everything had turned out. 

“I’ll field this one,” he said, confidently, “You may know your way around hallowed halls and fancy banquets, but I know how to work a crowd!”

“Lead on then,” smirked Mona, sweeping her hand out to give him the right-away.

Plague Knight scuttled off down the street, looking for a suitable establishment at which to show off their skills. He eventually found a smallish pub near the outskirts of the village. It appeared to be the only other drinking place apart from the main tavern. 

“Here,” he said, approaching the door and peeping in, “Hopefully… Oh, yes, excellent. Heehee! Just right!”

The inside was modest, and not exactly well-kept, but it gave off a feeling of warmth and welcome. The bartender appeared to be a kindly old Hen who was slowly cleaning the counter. Mona leaned gently over Plague Knight to peek in beside him.

“How can you tell it’s good?” she asked, curiously.

Plague Knight closed the door and pulled Mona aside. 

“Never go to a fancy place to recruit people to a cause,” he said, knowingly, “We’re not looking for benefactors, but workers. Dreamers. People who are unsatisfied with their lot…”

“Well, we should be on the lookout for benefactors too,” Mona interjected, “But, continue…”

“Hee! Big places like the main tavern cater to upper class clients who’ll already have nice, cushy jobs and lives! They won’t want to come work for criminals like us! And besides… Places like that tend to attract adventurers…” he shuddered. He most certainly did not want any of those, “However, we also want to avoid places that are too shabby or disreputable-looking. That’s where you get footpads and crooks… People who are too clever to trust or too brutish to reason with.” 

Mona nodded, clearly listening very carefully. Plague Knight couldn’t help but feel rather pleased with himself. He’d never had such an attentive audience… Although, he didn’t usually give lectures. Nevertheless, he was enjoying passing on his hard-earning knowledge. 

“A little place like this ought to be filled with serfs and farmhands who dream of more…” he put whimsical emphasis on ‘more’ and snickered, cynically, “Hopefully, we’ll find a few scientific minds.”

“…At a little pub on the edge of the village..?” Mona’s voice dripped with incredulity. 

Plague Knight coughed. Maybe he was being a little wishful himself.

“It’s not out of the question; intelligence leads to isolation, isolation to seeking company, and seeking company usually brings people to public spaces… like here. Hee!”

“Mm. I suppose…”

“I-I’m just saying that nobody in a fancy place will take, and we won’t want anyone from a dive. This is our best bet. We might just have to… take what we can get. Heh.”

Mona’s eyes narrowed at the little rhyme, but she seemed satisfied. 

“One last piece of advice,” Plague Knight cut in, quickly, “We should wait till the evening. People are more suggestible after a long day…”

 

Mona and Plague Knight spent the next few hours milling around The Village, trying to decide how best to acquire the materials for that batch of Black Powder bombs for the King.  
Plague Knight, of course, suggested they raid for it. Mona disagreed, once again reminding him that they had to keep a low profile. The King would certainly not like to have goods built with stolen parts. Plague Knight sulked over it. He really didn’t understand what the big deal was. People always had such funny hangups when it came to stuff like that. They were interested in the product, weren’t they? What should they care of the process?  
Mona suggested they buy some supplies on credit, and pay it all back once they’d filled the commission. Plague Knight supposed that was a sensible, if boring option. He really hoped they’d be able to get their hands on the supplies soon; he was eager to teach Mona the formula. He missed practicing alchemy with her, and seeing her eyes light up as their experiments succeeded. That suited her far more than squeezing herself into ugly gowns and being tediously practical. 

Eventually, the sky grew dark, and a group of tired looking villagers began to troop into the pub. Plague Knight and Mona watched them from their little out-of-the-way waiting place, carefully. 

“Projection. Definitely,” whispered Mona.

“Heehee! I think you’re right after all; these sad sacks need a little glitter in their lives…”

Once the building was sufficiently full, the the two alchemists slipped inside, themselves. Upon entering, they took a pair of free seats at the bar and glanced around, furtively. Plague Knight eyed the nearest customers, appraising them. A couple of sack-toting men were discussing work in weary voices just to the left, while a lady clad in armour was gratefully accepting a glass of frothy liquid to the right. Several farmhands sat in groups at tables, discussing the coming harvest, next to an Equine couple who seemed to be millers of some sort.

“Hello there,” clucked the bartender, amiably, “Had a long day, doctor? What can I get you?”

Plague Knight spread his spindly fingers across the table.

“Have you any lead, my good lady, heehee?” he asked, “Any… copper? Tin?”

The Hen cocked her head in confusion.

“We serve drinks. I think you might be a little confused, love…”

“No, no– I wish to order a drink! But I haven’t any gold… I am prepared to turn any useless metals you have into payment, however…”

The bartender now looked utterly befuddled. Plague Knight giggled and turned to the bar at large.

“Anyone have any useless scrap metal, so I can pay for a drink?!” he called.

A few patrons glanced at him uncertainly, clearly unnerved by his nonsensical shouting. 

“How about you, my dear partner?” said Plague Knight, turning to Mona, who’d been staring blankly through a couple of mushroom-gatherers beside her, “Have anything I could use to pay the dear lady?”

“I’m as broke as you are,” she replied, nonchalantly, “But I couldn’t help but notice that that lady’s poleyn has fallen off… Perhaps she’d let you borrow it? It looks quite damaged, anyway.”

At Mona’s words, the armoured woman next to Plague Knight flinched and looked downwards.

“Oh hell,” she muttered, “How’d that happen?”

She leaned down to pick up her fallen armour, but Plague Knight tapped her on the shoulder with a soft tink-tink-tink. She looked up, uncertainly. 

“Uhm…”

“Hello, madame,” he said, “Would you mind if I borrowed your poleyn, a moment? It seems to be in rather bad shape… In fact, I doubt it could stand another blow, heehee!”

The woman shuffled, nervously, “Uhh…”

“I can turn it into something far more valuable, hee! Go on, give it here!”

Without waiting, Plague Knight ducked down, snatched up the poleyn and slapped it onto the table with a clang. The pub’s previous chatter was dwindling as more eyes fell on the strange pair at the bar. The timid armoured woman looked like she wanted to protest, but wasn’t quite sure how.  
Plague Knight turned to Mona, who was already scribbling a circle onto the table. He giggled excitedly and began pulling out the requisite supplies from his cloak. They only had a little, so they’d have to make this count… 

“N-now, hold on a moment,” said the bartender, hurrying to Mona, “What are you doing to my–?!”

Mona gave the woman a sharp look, before going back to her marking, “Don’t get your feathers in a fluff… It’s just chalk…”

The Hen bartender looked rather indignant, but Plague Knight was already laying down powders and gently depositing the poleyn in the centre of the circle. Mona carefully drew each powder to the dented hunk of metal, adding liquid, painting over the surface… It was a simple act, something Plague Knight had done dozens of times, and yet he felt unreasonably giddy about it. Maybe it was the audience, or perhaps it was that flicker of fire in Mona’s eyes… He was just about to drop a match onto the concoction, when one of the sack men shot up and grabbed his arm.

“Hey now! What the hell do you think yer doing?!” he cried. 

He was about to grab the match out of Plague Knight’s fingers, but Mona got to it before him. She whisked it out of the way and dropped it smartly onto the poleyn. There was a slight puff of smoke and soft crackling. The bartender squeaked.

“My table..! I–– Oh… Oh my..!”

Mona had brushed the burnt powder off the poleyn, revealing the gleaming surface underneath. The armoured woman gasped.

“Whoa!”

The sack man let go of Plague Knight’s arm to stare, and Plague Knight quickly jerked away from him. He really didn’t like being touched without permission… Or at all. More patrons began crowding around, curiously. Everyone gaped at the glittering golden piece of armour on the table.

“Oh, come on,” groused a nearby Peacock, “You idiots! They’re just wizards! It’s a glamour spell!”

“You think so?” said Mona, shooting a dangerous look at the Avian, “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”

“Heehee! Yes! Do we have any miners in the house? Any jewellers? Anyone who can test the veracity of this little miracle?” called Plague Knight, confidently.

The villagers looked amongst themselves. It seemed they didn’t. However, one of the Equine couple stepped forward. 

“Oh please, give it here,” he said, reaching for the poleyn.

Mona handed it to him, brushing a little more powder off its surface. The Stallion took the armour and sank his teeth into it. The armoured woman gave a little whimper of protest. When the Stallion removed the metal from his mouth, his eyes grew round.

“By gods..! It IS gold!”

Large teethmarks were visible in the armour, showing its softness. Cries of awe went up from the villagers, who quickly turned their eyes on Plague Knight and Mona. Plague Knight glanced over at his dear partner, who was, of course, smirking. The little alchemist was making a similar expression under his mask. They had them! Now, to drive it all home…

“Thank you, madame,” said Plague Knight, snatching the poleyn from the Stallion and handing it back to the armoured woman, “Perhaps this will serve to buy you a nicer replacement? I’ll find some other way to buy a drink…”

“I– I-I… T-thank you!” the woman took the poleyn back and clutched it to her chest, “W-who are you people?”

“I am Plague Knight, alchemist extraordinaire, HEEHEE! And this,” he turned to Mona, “Is my dear partner!”

“Mona Mopes. You’re welcome,” said Mona, dryly. 

“What’s an alchemist?” asked a nearby mushroom-gatherer, curiously. A few other patrons echoed the question. 

Plague Knight glanced at Mona, before launching into an explanation. He did his best not to ramble, but it was always difficult when he was speaking on his favourite subject. Eventually, Mona cut him off with a little pat on the back.

“…In summary,” she said, flatly, “We are people who are seeking to uncover the secrets of the universe. Through science.” 

The tavern was alive with curious whispers. 

“And, we’re recruiting members!” Plague Knight added, “For an… itty-bitty entrance fee, we’re offering the chance to share in an alchemical revolution that will shake the valley to its core! Heehee, BOOM!”

“So, let me get this straight,” said a sack man, sounding a little unsure, “You’re saying that, theoretically… if someone went to work for you, you’d teach them how to… make gold? Just like that?”

There was a long silence as every eye seemed to land on Plague Knight. He felt his heart sink a little as he realized that his already not-so-high hopes of meeting a few likeminded scholars were quickly plummeting towards some metaphorical rocks. Oh well…

“Heh, yes, that is correct. Of course, projection is only ONE of the disciplines of alchemy, but…”

The pub had erupted back into whispers. 

“Anybody even slightly interested, please form a line beside me…” called Mona, pulling out her book and readying her quill. 

A half hour or so later, Plague Knight and Mona left the pub and made for the wilderness just outside The Village to make camp. The sky was an inky black, studded with stars and poked through by a gibbous moon. 

“So, how are our numbers, heehee?” trilled Plague Knight, cheerily.

“Uhh… Not super great,” said Mona, glumly, “We’ve got three confirmed joins, seven on the fence.”

“What?!” Plague Knight spluttered, “But they were all floored!!”

“Yeah, well, you know how people are,” Mona sighed, “It’s hard to gain trust. Even pure greed can’t tempt everyone.”

Plague Knight scowled underneath his mask. And he’d thought everything had been going so well…  
The pair stopped beneath some trees, as usual, and set down their belongings. Mona dug into her bag of bread, tearing a strip off the last loaf and cramming it into her mouth. She offered one to Plague Knight, who accepted it.

“So… Who did end up falling for our little ploy, heehee?” he asked, turning the bread over in his hands.

“That lady in the armour, one of the mushroom kids and that sack fellow who asked about the gold. Minions one through three.”

Plague Knight shrugged, “Oh well! It’s only a matter of time until the other seven come ‘round… And then there’s always tomorrow… and tomorrow… heehee! And tomorrow again…”

Mona yawned loudly. Plague Knight could see the dark shape of her body lower itself to the ground. 

“Well, not a bad first day, I’d say…” she murmured, sleepily, “And if enough people join, I think we’ll have enough money to buy ingredients for the King’s bombs…”

“Hee, we’d better! Or I’m going to have to go to plan B…”

“Which stands for Blow up a storehouse and loot the contents, I presume?”

“Bingo, heehee! That, or resort to alchemical gold...”

Mona snorted, quietly, “Get some sleep, Plague Knight.”

“I will,” he assured her, breezily. 

He heard Mona make a quiet noise of affirmation, then saw her shape curl in on itself. In a few moments, her breath became slow and steady, and Plague Knight judged it safe to creep somewhere out of the way and finish off his bread. 

 

The next few days were spent in careful persuasion. Both Plague Knight and Mona employed their cleverest tricks to wheedle as many interested parties into fully joining up as possible. While Plague Knight collected a small sum from each new member, Mona diligently went around snooping for as much information as she could find on anything and everything that could be useful to them.  
Plague Knight really appreciated her efforts. He could tell the constant social interaction was very taxing on her, as she tended to be quieter and more morose than ever after trips. Yet still, she persevered.   
Plague Knight, for his part, was planning the next steps to acquiring and fixing up the Slotholm keep. He worked calculations for fees and renovations, planning for any eventuality he could dream up. They had to be prepared for anything and everything if they were to succeed. This time, he couldn’t depend on improvisation, as much. Mona’s concerns were beginning to rub off on him, it seemed. This was the reason he wasn’t just projecting a bunch of gold trinkets to sell, either; they didn’t quite want to release any alchemical gold into the system as of yet, just in case somebody did come along who could tell the difference between it and genuine article. Until they had their foothold, they needed to work as cleanly as possible…

“Right. That’s all ten of them signed, and a couple more on the fence,” said Mona, wearily, plopping down next to Plague Knight one bright afternoon a few days later, “We should have a little over five thousand gold, by now. Do you think that’ll be enough for the supplies?”

“Heh, who can say? Depends on the merchant,” replied Plague Knight, thoughtfully, “Have you found any?”

“A couple possibilities. But I haven’t met with any, yet. Too busy getting these idiots to sign on…”

Mona yawned and closed her eyes.

“Heh– Y-you’re really working hard. I appreciate it,” stammered Plague Knight, feeling rather badly for his companion’s fatigue.

Mona’s eyes opened into little green slivers, and she gave him one of her not-smiles.

“Of course I am. I want this as much as you do.”

“Heehee! Of course!”

“Oh, I just remembered,” Mona shifted a little to focus on Plague Knight properly, “While I was out gathering info, I found out about this place down south…”

“Oh? And what lies down south?” asked Plague Knight, curiously.

“It’s a big settlement built over a necropolis that everyone calls the Lich Yard. It’s in a constant war between life and death, being pretty much the largest village in The Valley, but also being totally overrun with the undead. Apparently some super-powerful magic-user died there and his magic’s been digging up corpses ever since.”

“Heh! Perhaps the villagers will know something about getting rid of the undead, then?”

“Exactly my thoughts,” said Mona, shooting him a devilish smirk, “Also, since it’s so big, we might have better luck recruiting down there. I think we should give it a look.”

“Excellent! Shall we go now, heehee?”

Mona seemed a bit taken aback, before shrugging, “Sure. I think we’re just about done in The Village anyway.”

 

Reaching the Lich Yard took the entire afternoon. It was twice as far away as Pridemoor keep, and more densely wooded. Gone were the open fields of the north; here lay deep, silent green forests that seemed to stretch on forever in all directions.   
It was nightfall by the time they came within sight of the village. The way in was blocked by a large lake of dark water, but a shoreman came to greet them as they reached the docks. 

“Going to the Lich Yard?” he enquired, roughly.

“No, we’re just going to wade in there and drown ourselves,” replied Plague Knight, sarcastically. 

He heard Mona choke back a giggle.

“Yes, we’d like to acquire safe passage across the water,” she spoke up.

“Hmph. Come with me, then. Five gold apiece.”

Plague Knight dug into his purse and payed the man, reluctantly. Most of the membership fees they’d collected were safely hidden in a remote place, but Plague Knight had brought a little money with them in case of emergencies. And for food, of course. After the incident at the tavern, Plague Knight did not want to see Mona go hungry again. 

The trip across the lake was quite peaceful, apart from the few times the boat brushed a floating corpse that tried to climb aboard. The shoreman, however, seemed used to this, and smacked the offending undead back with his oars.   
The village on the other side was a strange amalgamation of regular houses and huge mausoleums. Scraggly, dying grass covered the hills, and old trees creaked ominously in the wind. It was difficult to figure out where the town started and the graveyard ended. Despite the macabre setting, however, the villagers that were out seemed quite lively. 

Upon arrival, Plague Knight scuttled along the dimly lit streets, keeping his eyes peeled for a worthy establishment. He eventually settled on a comfortable looking inn tucked away between a large stone tomb and a tailors.   
As usual, the two found seats at the bar and prepared their spiel. This would be the last of their projection supplies, so they’d have to make it count. 

“Psst. Plague Knight,” Mona leaned over to him as he arranged the powders in his cloak, “I can’t see anything free and metallic around here. Can you scout around?”

“Hee! Sit tight!” he replied, sliding off his stool and making his way into the group of round tables. 

There were a great many people in the inn tonight, all talking and laughing as if actively taunting the presence of death all around them with their vivacity. It was kind of admirable, in a way, if a little cacophonous.  
Plague Knight’s search, however, was not quite so happy. The tavern didn’t seem to have anything metallic he could carefully spirit away with him, and stealing from the patrons was, unfortunately, out of the question. Plague Knight trudged back to the bar, feeling frustrated. Looking up, he saw something calculated to dampen his mood even further.  
A pair of men had seated themselves beside Mona and were attempting to make conversation with her. From her body language and stony expression, it was clear she was not having a good time. When her eyes alighted on Plague Knight, she perked up.

“Have any luck?” she asked as he pulled himself onto the seat to her right and squinted at the two men through his mask. 

“Heh, unfortunately, no. No lucky poleyns this evening.”

“Damn… Well, there’s got to be something…”

“Hey, you listening to me?” one of the men was calling from behind Mona, drumming his fingers on the table, “You’re not deaf, are ya?”

Plague Knight saw Mona’s eyes narrow. She turned towards the man, slowly. Plague Knight wondered if she was going to slap him. Instead, she simply stared.

“Ha! Not deaf after all, are ya? So, as I was saying, why don’t we…”

Ignoring the man completely, Mona proceeded to open her mouth as wide as humanly possible and let out a colossal yawn. She shut her mouth languidly, swallowed, then turned back to Plague Knight, who was trying not to fall off his stool laughing. 

“Anyway, I think we should–”

Mona was once again interrupted by one of the men’s shouts, “Hey, pipsqueak! What’s so funny?!”

Plague Knight realized they were speaking to him, “Heehee! The mother of all snubs you just received, back there! Although I’m, heehee, not sure if you caught that! You look a little dense.”

The man’s face scrunched into an infuriated grimace. He and his friend were quite large, though one favoured height and the other width. The wide one was scowling at Plague Knight, and the tall one was watching over his shoulder.

“Wow, little guy has a mouth on him,” said Tall.

“Not for long. I’m thinkin’ we should teach him a little lesson in etiquette,” growled Wide, “See, usually, when guys are talkin’ to a lady, they don’t like eavesdroppers…”

“Heeheehee! Dense AND blind,” Plague Knight spat back, “Can’t you see she’s not interested?!”

“You’ve got nothing to do with this,” said Tall, “Mind your own business.”

“Actually, I do,” Plague Knight was on the ground now, planting himself between the men and Mona’s barstool, “This lady happens to be my partner.”

He wasn’t sure why he was getting so worked up about this; Mona could clearly handle these two, and they weren’t making any physical efforts to harm her. But there was something in their tone he didn’t like. And besides, he never passed up a chance to have a little fun with people who called him names. 

Wide started snickering incredulously, “What, really? Oh c’mon, you’re yanking our chains. There’s no way.”

“Just ignore them,” mumbled Mona, in her most monotonous voice, “We’ve got bigger things to worry about. Much bigger things.”

“C’mon, lady, ditch the Birder,” called Tall as Mona stood up and made to head to the other side of the inn, “There’s this great headstone we wanna show ya…”

Plague Knight would have dearly loved to send these two running for their lives, but he lacked explosives, and Mona was quickly leaving him behind. He supposed she was right; they had more important things to focus on. 

“Have fun with your headstone,” said Plague Knight, saluting flippantly to the two men before scampering off to join his partner.

WHAM.

Something hit him square in the back of the skull, causing him to squeak and trip forwards. The wooden clattering on the floor told him he’d just been dinged with a coaster. Mona had turned around, a look of shock on her face. She rushed forward to help him up, but Plague Knight was already on his feet, pulling out his bottle of Sweet Vitriol. 

“Are you okay?” hissed Mona, leaning over him as he inhaled a gulp full of the chemical.

“Fine,” giggled Plague Knight, turning around, “Absolutely fantastic, HEE HEE HEE!!”

Tall seemed to be the one who’d thrown it, judging from his stance. Wide was smirking along with him.

“Go on, keep walking,” called Wide, smugly.

“On the contrary,” said Plague Knight, picking the fallen coaster up in his hands, “I think I’d like to play a little game of catch! Heehee!”

Bombs were not precision instruments, by any means, but Plague Knight had learned long ago the merits of being a good shot. He whipped the coaster horizontally towards the two men. Rather than aiming for them specifically, he sent his projectile speeding towards their mugs. With a clatter of glass and wood, the coaster hit one mug and knocked it into the other, sending their contents spilling all over the counter and the two men.

By this time, the other patrons were catching wind of the impending bar fight. A pair of toads huddled together while a group of smiths leaned forwards eagerly. A man with a handsome mop of dreadlocks lounged in the back of the bar, smirking in anticipation.

“Argh! What the––?!” cried Wide, pulling away from the table to paw at his sopping tunic. 

Tall was already stalking forwards, slamming his fist into his palm threateningly. Plague Knight merely guffawed.

“Oooh!! Here comes the tough guy, heeheehaha!!”

“Better close your eyes, lady,” Tall snarled, at Mona, “This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Plague Knight felt a wave of heat behind him. Was it coming from Mona? He didn’t have much time to think about it, however, because Tall’s fist was already coming at him.   
Tall was well built, definitely, with a sharp, angular physique that made him look like he was hewn from stone. But Plague Knight was small and agile. He dodged the punch easily, rolled under the man’s legs and danced off towards the other side of the bar.

“Weehee!! Can’t catch me!” he called, hoping to enrage the man further.

Heavy footfalls told him that Wide was after him too, now. Glancing behind him, he caught sight of the man drawing a club from his belt. How fitting.  
Plague Knight hopped onto a nearby table, causing its occupants to dive for cover. He scooped up the abandoned mugs there and began tossing them at Wide. Wide roared in anger as the little wooden objects bounced off his head and shoulders.  
At this point, tall was rushing towards Plague Knight as well, fists at the ready.  
Plague Knight leapt from table to table, kicking up crockery and silverware with abandon. Patrons shrieked and dashed out the door, while others backed towards the walls and began to cheer. 

“Heehee! Just give it up!” Plague Knight called maniacally as the two men attempted to corner him.

His laughter was a little short-lived, however, as Wide managed to reach the table he was on and upend it. Falling back, Plague Knight hit the ground hard and only just managed to fling his hands up behind his head to stop it from cracking against the stone floor. Tall was approaching fast, aiming to tackle him. Wide had tossed Tall his club, which the man was about to make good use of. 

“Plague Knight!”

A sudden flash of blue startled him, and suddenly, Plague Knight was holding a heavy, metal ladle. He had no idea where it had come from or how he was suddenly in possession of it until he glanced up to see Mona staring straight at him from across the room, left hand outstretched.   
Just as Tall made to land on him, Plague Knight rolled out of the way and gave him a good smack with his new weapon. Tall shrieked with pain as the head of the ladle hit his shoulder, causing him to drop the club.  
Not even waiting for the man to right himself, Plague Knight delivered another blow to the man’s head, which caused him to crumple completely. 

Tall was down, but Wide was lifting the table he’d knocked over. 

“Get back here, you son of a bitch,” he growled, heaving the table in Plague Knight’s direction. It wasn’t a very well-planned attack, and the table skidded and bumped across the floor, tipping over again and rolling to the side.

Plague Knight used it as a springboard, hopping onto its edge and pushing off to use the momentum to land a devastating blow on Wide’s head.

“AAARRGH!” the huge man bellowed, falling to the ground as Plague Knight landed on top of him.

“DIE!! DIE!!!” Plague Knight shouted gleefully, bringing the ladle down again and again onto the man’s forehead, “WHY WON’T YOU PASS OUT?!!”

“STOP! STOOOP!!!”

The bartender was rushing through the wreckage, waving his hands panically.

“What have you done?! My bar!! My patrons! My bodyguards!!”

“Bodyguards?” Plague Knight paused a moment in his assault, staying his ladle. Wide groaned piteously from beneath him.

“Yes!! These two were supposed to guard my inn from the undead hoard! Now look at them! Hardly fit to stand!” the bartender wrung his hands, “Oh what shall I do?! The one night our beloved Phantom is away, and these two were the only ones who agreed to protect what’s mine in his absence! Oh, woe! Woe!!”

There was a soft crunching of debris as Mona approached the bartender.

“Good sir,” she said, calmly, “We apologize for the commotion. My dear companion was merely trying to… um… guard my honour.”

She shot Plague Knight a look, and he quickly nodded, “You should really train your guard-dogs better, heehee! These two have been very bad boys!”

“As an apology, we would like to offer our services. We are alchemists,” continued Mona, carefully, “and we have come to this land to share our varied expertise. If you would allow us a few hours, we will gladly replace your injured men and guard your establishment till the morning.”

Plague Knight flinched, but choked back a ‘what?!’ as Mona gave him another look, “Do you know of any merchants who sell chemical supplies?”

The bartender looked completely overwhelmed, “I––I––“

“Hey, babe,” a slick voice came from the side of the inn, where a gaggle of ogling patrons stood. 

A man in baggy, bangled clothing slid out from their midst towards Mona, “Couldn’t help but overhear you need a few supplies?”

Mona glanced at the man dubiously, and Plague Knight hopped off of Wide to join her. This was the man with the dreadlocks from the back of the bar. He still wore the smirk he’d had when he was cozying in to watch the fight.

“Name’s Chester; nice to meetcha. I’ve always got deals that are sure to please ya,” he grinned, “Just happened to be watching your little show, just now. Gotta say, I’m impressed. What’re you on the market for?”

“Black powder, gums, resins, wax, cotton string…” replied Plague Knight, listing the materials off by heart.

“Hoho. That’s a tall order, but I think I can get you some pronto, if you really need it… of course, it’s gonna cost ya…”

Mona folded her arms, “How much?”

“How much you want?”

Mona was silent for a few moments, before glancing at Plague Knight.

“How many bombs will you need?”

“Hmm… I’d say thirty ought to do, hee. That’s about a pound of each ingredient,” he replied, calculating the logistics of the possible skirmish in his head. Whatever Mona was planning, he trusted her. Though he wasn’t sure how he felt about this guy. Convenient, certainly… but maybe a little too slick.

“Fifty,” said Mona, succinctly.

“Alright then. That was a mighty fine show you put on there, so I’m gonna be nice. Let’s call it five thousand gold,” replied Chester, genially, “Oh, and uhh…”

He leaned in, smirking, his voice going low, “I wouldn’t try any little tricks on me. The Valley might not know much about alchemists, but I’ve been a little of everywhere. Get me?”

“In a stranglehold…” grumbled Mona, “Alright. We’re good for it. But we don’t have it with us. Maybe you could––“

“Ah ah ah,” said Chester, waving his finger chidingly, “Don’t be like that, sweetheart. Show me the gold, and I’ll show you the goods.”

Mona gritted her teeth, “But it takes hours to get here. If we go back, we’ll miss–– Oh, forget it.”

Plague Knight watched as Mona closed her eyes and concentrated. Her breathing became uneven as she clenched her fists, tightly.

“Mona..?” he asked, nervously, “Are you alright?”

Mona opened her eyes a sliver and glanced down at Plague Knight. She relaxed, slightly, as she did so.

“Yeah, I’m fine… I-I’m just trying to––“

There was a sudden crackle of blue and a large, dusty bag appeared out of nowhere between Mona and Chester. Plague Knight recognized it as the gold they’d collected from their new minions. It hit the ground heavily and spilled its glittering contents onto the stone floor. A few bar patrons darted forwards, excitedly, but Plague Knight quickly hopped in their way, ladle raised.

“BACK OFF,” he shouted, brandishing his weapon. The offending parties slunk back, disappointed.

Mona brushed down her cloak, haughtily, “Will that do?” she asked, motioning to the bag.

Chester knelt beside it and ran his fingers over the surface.

“Heh. You kids sit tight. I’ll be back soon.”

He gave a bow so low that his mop of dreadlocks obscured his face, then he scooped up the bag, secreted it to who-knows-where, and swept out the door with a merry jingle.

The bartender stared after him, mouthing soundlessly. It seemed like the poor man was completely at wits end. Mona put a hand gingerly on his shoulder, and he flinched. 

“Erm, how long do we have?”

“T-t-till midnight,” the man whimpered.

“Alright. Plague Knight?”

“Heehee! Plenty of time,” the little alchemist replied, “So long as that merchant comes back soon.”

“Let’s hope so. C’mon,” Mona leaned in quietly to whisper to him, “I’ll explain outside.”

\- - -

“So… let me get this straight,” muttered Plague Knight, pacing back and forth outside the inn, “You want me to stay up all night blasting skeletons… for recruiting purposes?”

“Well, I… Yes. I just thought a demonstration of your breakthrough bomb design would inspire people to join,” there was a note of uncertainty in Mona’s voice, “As well as to test their effectiveness on the undead. I mean, we could call it off, but–“

“No! Heehee! I’m itching to break a few bones, haha!”

Mona seemed rather relieved.

“Oh, good. Right. Okay, anyway,” she returned to her business-like tone, “Once that merchant gets back with the supplies, make as many bombs as you can. I ordered extra so you can make the King’s commission at the same time. This might be our best… or last chance to do so.”

Plague Knight nodded, “Heh, well, we could really use that cash A-S-A-P!”

“Definitely,” muttered Mona, “So, you just put twenty or so aside, and I’ll pack them up. I was hoping you would show me how they were made, but I’m going to be rallying a crowd of hopefuls, so I suppose I’ll have to take a rain check on that…”

“Heh, next time we get a free moment, I’ll make sure to give you a crash course,” Plague Knight promised. He was rather looking forward to doing alchemy with her again. 

Mona shot him one of her not-smiles, then leaned against the wall to wait for their mysterious merchant to return. Plague Knight sidled up beside her and continued his calculations for the coming fight.   
About a half-hour later, Chester the merchant returned, toting several heavy sacks.

“Here ya go, just as promised. Pleasure doing business with ya…” 

Plague Knight scampered towards the sacks to check their contents, while Mona approached the smooth salesman. 

“Would you like to stay and watch the show?” she asked, clearly hoping to add him to her list of recruits. 

“Heh, I’d love to, but I’ve got bigger fish to fry,” replied Chester, slyly, “…Or birds to pluck. Heheh. Later, babe. You ever need me again, just come and find me…”

On that enigmatic note, the man bowed low again, then disappeared off into the night. Mona scowled after him. Plague Knight motioned her over to the supplies to distract her.

“Here, look! It’s all in order! Heehee!”

“Oh thank the gods. If he shortchanged us I would’ve… well, I was going to say cursed him into oblivion, but I’m not even sure I can do that.”

“Heh, you could always summon another ladle and clobber him,” tittered Plague Knight, “Where’d you get that, anyway?”

He still had the heavy metal object with him, tucked into his belt. Just in case. 

“I saw the bartender with it earlier, when you went to check for metal,” she explained, “I was about to ask him to borrow it before those two idiots started bothering me. Um…”

She trailed off, awkwardly, fidgeting a little, “…Thanks, by the way.”

“Hmm? For what?”

“For telling them to buzz off,” she muttered, “I mean. I would have handled them on my own. But it’s nice to… uh, it’s good to kn… That you…”

She shook her head, clearly not interested in grappling with the rest of her thought. Plague Knight shrugged. He was used to this behaviour by now.

“Alright, I’m going to drum up an audience. Good luck with the bombs. Remember, keep twenty to the side.”

“Hee! I know, I know! See you at midnight!”

 

Midnight, as it turned out, was marked by a very loud, ominous bonging sound from some unseen bell-tower hidden somewhere in the macabre town. Plague Knight was just gathering up his new arsenal and carefully placing exactly twenty explosives out of the way for the King as it rang out. Mona had managed to gather a gaggle of onlookers, who were all waiting impatiently for the show to begin. 

Plague Knight pulled out his bottle of Sweet Vitriol and took another lungful. Faint rustling sounds were coming from the other side of the fence to the back of the inn. Looking back at his excited audience, Plague Knight noted the bartender watching anxiously from the very front.  
Plague Knight smirked and tucked a bomb into his left hand, taking a few steps back and forth to steady himself. The orange lights of the tavern and the cool white gleam of the moon were the only sources of illumination.   
Suddenly, a loud groan split the air. Over the fence, from the direction of one of the many graveyards that littered the town, came a swarm of skeletal creatures. Human and animal bones clawed their way out of the soft earth, aided by cutlasses and swords. Their bones scraped and clicked together as they moved, creating an unholy cacophony only worsened by the ghoulish growls from lungs long-since disintegrated.

Plague Knight watched carefully, then took a running leap at the hoard. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he tossed his first bomb down diagonally into the group of creatures, then landed behind them with a thud and scuttling away. The ensuing explosion sent shards of bone flying in all directions, and lit up the clump of undead momentarily, like an agitated toadvolt.  
The creatures that hadn’t suffered the brunt of the blast were blown away by their companions, bits of their bodies becoming dislodged and unusable. Plague Knight darted around, keeping just out of reach of their weapons, smashing the remaining stragglers to bits with his ladle. 

He could hear cheers and whispers erupting from the crowd behind them. He giggled to himself, gleefully, excited by the growing mayhem and positive reception. He really did love showing off. He wondered, idly, what Mona thought of his escapades, as he tossed another bomb at a new clump of creaking corpses.   
He glanced back at the onlookers, searching for her towering figure amongst the crowd. 

THWAM.

What seemed to be a femur hit him in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. He fell to the ground, choking, to see a skeleton holding a fallen friend’s leg bone and advancing menacingly. Others followed, while still others made their way onwards towards the audience.  
Plague Knight feebly tossed another bomb at these, and though his momentary incapacitation took much of the momentum out of it, it still managed to roll across the ground and detonate amongst the oncoming dead.   
Plague Knight scrambled to his feet and dodged another blow, but found that he was quickly being surrounded.

“Heehee! First a surprise attack, now an ambush? Nice try,” he dropped a bomb at his feet and steadied himself, carefully, “But you’ve been in the ground for too long!”

He leapt at the last moment, and felt the searing heat of his bomb detonating beneath him. The force sent him rocketing upwards, and blew back his encroaching enemies. He tossed another couple of bombs from midair as he fell, clearing the area below.  
A cheer went up from the villagers, and Plague Knight fairly preened. He usually liked hearing people scream in fury or despair during his antics, but this wasn’t bad either.

Sadly, the waves of undead became patchy. Lulls in the stream caused Plague Knight to feel antsy and annoyed. He paced back and forth, jumping at any sound even resembling a growl. He even flinched at his own stomach, once. Many of his audience were getting tired and heading off to bed. Eventually, only Mona and the innkeeper remained.   
When the sun began to rise pinkly over the horizon, the man stumbled forwards.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” he rasped, his bloodshot eyes filling with tears, “You’ve saved my establishment!”

“Heh, no problem,” said Plague Knight, awkwardly. He wasn’t used to dealing with gratitude. Especially up close.

Mona joined them, presently, carrying the parcel of Plague Knight’s extra bombs.

“You’re very welcome, good sir,” she said, saving Plague Knight the discomfort of continuing, “Now, we’ll be taking our leave until later in the day. There’s work to be done…”

With that, Mona nodded politely at the bartender, and made for the main street. Plague Knight followed her, curiously. Were they going to head back to The Village, and then onto Pridemoor keep again? But no, it seemed not, as Mona wandered down a side street and eventually came to a stop in a deserted alleyway. She sat down, there, and leaned her head against the brick wall.

“C’mere,” she grumbled, wearily, “We have to rest.”

“What?”

“Especially you,” she replied, tersely, “You did a great job. But we’ve got new recruits to charm in a while. We need to have all our wits about us for that. I’m determined to get at least ten more signs…”

“Heehee! I’m fine, Mona,” Plague Knight assured her, “I’ve got my Vitriol with me, and I feel wide awake!”

“Fine, then,” she groaned, sounding not unlike an undead herself, “But I’m going to have a nap.”

Plague Knight supposed this was for the better. Mona wasn’t very sociable at her best, and a hungry, sleepless Mona would probably end up being scarier than a whole battalion of zombie soldiers. Not at all good for business. 

So, while Mona slept, Plague Knight decided to take a walk through the village. The early morning sunshine lit everything in pale, milky-yellow, giving the spooky architecture more of a forlorn appearance. Plague Knight dug into his purse and found he had a fair amount of gold leftover from the previous evening, and he decided to buy some breakfast. Mona would want food when she woke up, too.   
He eventually found a vegetable stall that was open, and bought several large carrots from the bleary owner. He then scuttled back along the street, keeping his eyes peeled for some out-of-the-way place. When he managed to find another deserted alley, he shuffled all the way to the back, furtively removed his mask and crunched down two of the carrots. The hunger pains from last night had faded into a dull ache, but he supposed he should eat anyway. The carrots were a little difficult to get down, but he managed.   
Once he was finished, he replaced his mask and went back to look for Mona. He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he’d forgotten where he’d left her. The village really was quite large, and many of the alleys looked exactly the same. Not to mention the encroaching graveyards made the place difficult to navigate.

Eventually, Plague Knight caught site of the inn and began to scout around it, looking for the place his partner had settled down just hours before. Unfortunately, even when he was sure he’d found her resting place, Mona was missing from it. Plague Knight nervously returned to the inn, clutching his remaining carrots, thinking Mona might have gone there. Luckily, his hunch was correct, as when he pushed open the door, he found his partner sitting at a table, speaking to a gaggle of villagers. When they caught sight of him, they all gave a rousing cry.

“Ahah! There he is!”

“The man of the hour!”

“Guess we’re gonna call you Boss, huh?”

Plague Knight edged over to Mona, chuckling nervously. He found himself feeling rather shy in the presence of so many big, gleaming smiles. It wasn’t a situation he was used to, and it made him feel rather embarrassed.

“Erm, here, I brought you some food,” he mumbled, holding out the carrots to his partner, who perked up at the sight of the deep orange roots.

“Thank you,” she said, taking one and snapping a bite off of it with a ravenous CRACK, “I was just putting down the last of these names, here. Say hello to minions eleven through thirty.”

Plague Knight waved awkwardly at the cheerful group of villagers. Mona seemed to note his discomfort, because she stood up, suddenly.

“In any case,” she spoke briskly to the room at large, “You will report to The Village in a week’s time. At that point, we will begin our journey to our new property. Please bring supplies for a few day’s travel.”

“Yes ma’am!”

“You got it!”

“See you then!”

The group filed out of the inn, talking excitedly amongst themselves. This left Mona and Plague Knight alone at the table. Mona reached for another carrot as she munched down her first. She was giving Plague Knight her fiercest not-smile yet.

“You had them shwooning,” she muffled through a mouthful of carrot, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that earlier. I told them about projection thish morning, and that shealed the deal. Power and money really do rule the world… Guessh I already knew that, though.” 

“Heheh… Did you enjoy the show, Mona?” asked Plague Knight, smirking behind his mask. 

Mona swallowed and glanced down at him.

“…Of course,” she mumbled, frowning slightly, “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

There was a small silence, before Mona yawned, loudly.

“Ugh. I need to find a nice, soft knoll or something,” she mumbled, “That alleyway was so uncomfortable I could barely close my eyes. Thank gods you brought those carrots when you did.”

“Hee! I had a feeling you might need some pick-me-up.”

“Did you eat?” asked Mona, a note of concern in her voice, “You can’t survive on Vitriol alone, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I ate,” Plague Knight said, waving his hand dismissively. He found himself both annoyed and slightly pleased with her solicitude. It was vexing to have to confirm something so trivial, but there was an undefinably nice feeling about being asked, nonetheless. 

“Alright,” said Mona, heaving a deep sigh and rising to her feet, “We’d better head back. Ready for the road?”

“Of course! Lead on, heehee! Maybe we can stop and find that knoll you were talking about…”

Mona smirked, and rolled her eyes, then swept out the door. Plague Knight beetled after her, contentedly.

Just as the pair reached the lake outside of the Lich Yard and hired another boat across, a sudden storm cloud swept overhead. With a deafening CRACK, a single strike of lightning descended over the village. Mona and Plague Knight jumped.

“W-what was that?!” yelped Mona.

“Hee! Do you think somebody fried?” squeaked Plague Knight, giggling away his surprise.

“Heh. He’s back,” muttered the shoreman, gazing out at the Lich Yard with a grim smile. 

Plague Knight and Mona decided not to ask about what he meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to apologize real quick for the douchebags-at-the-bar cliché. I know it's corny but it just seemed like the best way to move the plot forward. -TS


	4. Bucklers and Bonnets

The next few days were spent in busy organization. Now with further funding from their twenty new members, Plague Knight and Mona were able to live and work on their various preparations with further ease. Supplies could be obtained more readily, as well as food, and now that they had a budget, a concrete idea of the proceedings was beginning to take shape.   
In addition, a few more people from The Village had finally decided to join their enterprise, bumping their number up to thirty-five. They were a jumbled, varied crew of strangers, but most of them seemed quite excited to be part of the group. Not all for the same reasons, but that would have to be looked into later.   
The set of bombs so carefully constructed for the King turned out to be the first task delegated to the minions, as one of them insisted on making the journey himself.

“You’d think enthusiasm would be a useful trait in a courier, but nooooo,” the man cried, waving his hands dramatically, “Nobody will hire me anymore!! But I won’t disappoint you, Master! Let me take this package to the King– I’ll get there lickety-split!”

Plague Knight shared a dubious look with Mona, but ultimately decided to let the man have his wish. Mona, however, decided to join him on the trip, just to make sure nothing went awry. Meanwhile, Plague Knight made several more purchases of bomb ingredients. If they were to take the Slotholm keep from the undead, he’d need a suitable arsenal. His experience at the Lich Yard told him he needed to keep his wits about him; the undead were not as stupid as one would think.   
Not that they posed much of a threat to a clever alchemist like him, of course.

When Mona and the ex-courier returned, the man was absolutely jubilant. He thanked both his new superiors for their trust -completely missing Mona’s role during his mission- and happily offered his services in perpetuity. 

“I’ll be your official courier!” he cried, gaily, “Nothing shall stop me in the quest to deliver your mail!! Not snow, nor rain, nor heat nor gloom of night!”

“Enthusiastic, isn’t he, heehee,” muttered Plague Knight as the man capered about, cheering. 

“Well, a lot of our recruits are… a little odd, to put it mildly,” Mona mumbled back, “That or they’re just greedy. Speaking of which, we’ve been payed in full.”

“Excellent!” hissed Plague Knight, cheerfully, “Let’s celebrate! Tell that loon to scram.”

After Mona managed to send the peppy postman on his way, Plague Knight lead her away into the forrest to a clearing he’d picked out. Waiting for them there was his new cache of ingredients. 

“Heehee! I’d say it’s about time I taught you that recipe of mine!” Plague Knight announced, brushing off the cleared area a little more with his boots.

Mona’s eyes lit up like a chemical reaction, and she hastened forwards to help.

“Great! I’ve been itching to learn it for ages,” she said, eagerly, “Ever since you gave me some at the Academy. I’ve made a few guesses at the process already just from looking at them, but I’m still not sure about a few key things…”

Plague Knight began tracing a large alchemical circle in the dirt.

“The casings, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, are a special polymer resin,” he explained, “The construction process isn’t lengthy, but it takes a steady hand. Especially when shaping the resin.”

Mona sat attentively, her notebook open at the ready. Plague Knight once again noted how much he liked being listened to when it came to his craft. And Mona was always a wonderful listener. Back when he’d been impersonating a student at the Academy of Alchemy, he’d given her several lessons. Those, however, were about things she knew already, and did not hold her attention long. It had also been before they’d really gotten to know each other. When they’d begun their first project, there hadn’t been many lessons as the pair were more focused on the creation of their little opus. But this was different; this time he really had something useful to offer her, and she was clearly ready to receive.

The two alchemists spent a lovely afternoon synthesizing a large stock of explosives. Mona picked the recipe up quickly, cutting production time in half. They busied themselves contentedly with concocting polymer and priming powders. The two became so caught up by their work that their stock of supplies dwindled into nothing before they knew it.

“Oh– T-that’s the last of the salt…” said Mona, catching her breath, slightly, “I… Did we mean to make all these at once?”

Plague Knight glanced at the pile of bombs next to them and winced, slightly.

“Hee… I think we got a little carried away.”

Mona flopped down on the ground, scuffing out her circle in one fell swoop, “Ahh… Guess I got excited.”

“Heh…heh… Uhhh, how are we going to carry all these?”

Mona reached for a nearby empty sack and picked it up, “We can toss them in here. I doubt they’ll react with any of the residue inside.”

“Hmm, good thinking!”

Once the plethora of bombs were put away, Mona and Plague Knight each hefted a sack over their shoulder and returned to the village.  
This set of explosives was eventually added to a growing list of items they would need for the coming trip to the Slotholm keep. Apart from munitions, the group would need room and board once they reached the Outpost, as well as basic camping equipment for the road.   
Neither Mona nor Plague Knight were eager to repeat the kind of journey they’d taken to get to The Valley in the first place. 

In a week’s time, the preparations were finally complete. At the crack of dawn, the thirty-five minions gathered in the Village square, just as Mona had ordered. Each of them was whispering excitedly or groaning about the early hour. Mona and Plague Knight had been up for some time, finalizing all the details of the trip. They quickly performed a headcount of their number, making sure each person had brought their own travel pack as well.

“Listen up,” said Mona, briskly, “The journey ahead will take approximately two days of travel. We are to reach the Armour Outpost by nightfall of the second day, and rest properly there before approaching the Keep. Once there, we’ll see what steps we must take to secure it properly. Any questions?”

Plague Knight surveyed the crowd, looking out for raised hands. One shot up; one of the ex-mushroom-gatherers. 

“Uhm, will the trip be, uh, dangerous?” he asked, nervously. 

“Hee! We’ll see!” replied Plague Knight, blithely.

“Don’t worry,” said the lady knight from the bar, “I came prepared. Stick close to me.”

She showed the gatherer the sword at her hip, and he looked quite relieved. Mona was watching them, shrewdly.

“…Yes. Good idea. Which of you has fighting experience?” she called.

Five hands shot up, including the lady knight’s. 

“Right. Which of you are proficient in hand-to-hand combat?”

Two hands.

“…And the rest of you need a weapon, I assume? Did you bring one?”

Only one other hand than the lady knight’s hit the air. Mona sighed, “Guess we’ll have to find some big sticks. Come on, lets get going.”

And so the little group began its procession out of The Village and into the lush green wilds beyond. The five self-proclaimed fighters moved prudently to the outside of the group, keeping their eyes out for danger. Mona stayed slightly ahead of them, but close enough to communicate clearly, to make sure they all stayed in check.  
Plague Knight himself scuttled ahead, scouting the countryside. He was wide awake, despite his relative lack of sleep, and extremely excited to be on the road again.   
He diligently kept his eyes peeled for any kind of oncoming threat or obstacle. Every once in a while he’d quickly get the feel of some difficult terrain, judging which path would be easiest to lead the group over. For the most part, the land was an expanse of rolling green hills dotted with wildflowers and the errant stone. But certain inclines and drops were steeper than others, and the ground could be uneven. The farther they went, the less uniform the turf became, and the likelier they were to run into deep pits.

Despite the increasingly traitorous landscape, the group remained in fairly high spirits. The minions continued to chat amongst themselves. Plague Knight wasn’t particularly interested in hearing exactly what they were saying, but the few snatches he accidentally caught sounded positive in nature. He was pleased that they were as interested in capturing the fort as he was. A willing workforce was a useful workforce, after all. 

The group stopped at around midday to rest and eat. A cool breeze blew over The Valley, ruffling the long grass and cooling the weary travellers.   
Now that they’d come into some money, Plague Knight had been able to purchase the basics of his old meal of choice. He cheerfully tucked in to his vitamin-enhanced goo, while Mona sat next to him, poring over her notebook. She appeared to be deep in thought, scribbling down calculations and diagrams.

“…Just doing the books…” she murmured, as she noticed Plague Knight watching, “All our funding is in credit, of course… so that we don’t have to lug around any real gold… but that means we really have to keep track of how much we spend. The King will only cover a certain amount, after all…”

“Need any help?” Plague Knight offered, “You should eat while we’re stopped, heh…”

“I’m almost done,” she muttered, “Just pass me a slice of bread or something.”

Plague Knight did so, and Mona hungrily wadded it up and crammed it into her mouth. The ferocity with which she ate it, coupled with the amount she somehow stuffed into her cheeks was enough to make Plague Knight roll over laughing. Mona looked up, indignantly.

“Whaff?”

“Hee!! You look like a chipmunk!” he cackled, nearly spilling his lunch all down his front.

Mona scowled and swallowed, turning away, “Shut up.”

“Heeheehahaha–– ooph!!”

Mona had rapped him lightly across the head with her notebook.

 

After lunch, the group got moving again. The sun was hot overhead, and the sky was an eye-searing blue. The land was becoming even more uneven, in a series of waves, like soft green dunes. The constant up-and-down proved waring on the travellers. Water supplies were quickly dipping, and the cheerful chatter that had filled the group had mostly faded away, replaced by huffing and puffing. The occasional hostile creature appeared, but Plague Knight made short work of them with his bombs. He pushed along determinedly, fuelled by Sweet Vitriol and vitamin mush. He was at peak form; the healthiest he could get. And even if he hadn’t been, his ambition would have spurred him onwards, anyway.   
He needed to get to the fort. He needed to take that first step. Or second, rather. He supposed getting the minions together was the first.

He was just climbing over another grassy ridge, when there was a whistling sound from the left. As Plague Knight turned, he saw an arrow plant itself in the ground right in front of the group, causing the minions to jump back in fright. Another arrow hit the ground on the other side. The second arrow was followed by a man in greenish clothing, who leapt into their midst.

“Nobody move!” he shouted, “This… is a robbery!”

“Oh, is it?” muttered Plague Knight, to himself, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Footpads. The lowest of the low criminals. These ghouls stalked roadways and countrysides, making their daily bread by catching unwary travellers on the road. This team seemed to comprise of the man currently advancing on the minions, and a pair of archers.

“Give up your valuables! And don’t try anything– my men have their bows on you!” shouted the nearby footpad, threateningly. 

“Stay back, knave!” cried the armoured woman, stepping forwards and brandishing her sword, “I shan’t hesitate to cut you to ribbons!”

From the way she moved, Plague Knight noted that she wasn’t what one would call skilled. Her gloomy demeanour and battered armour made more sense, now. Oh well– no use dwelling on this. He glanced over at Mona, who was standing tensely with the minions, eyes narrowed. Better act fast. The main footpad didn’t seem to have seen him, as he was so far ahead. That, or he didn’t consider him much of a threat and was ignoring him. Big mistake.

Plague Knight scuttled off, ducking behind a grass dune and keeping his eyes peeled. He made for the general direction the arrow on the left had come from earlier. Eventually, he spotted a green-cloaked man standing on a hill, clutching a bow and watching the group. Plague Knight tucked his hand into his robes and removed a bomb. He’d have to time this just right, so that the fuse would burn out just as it reached the man. If he didn’t, the bomb would roll down the hillside and simply alert the footpad to his presence. With that in mind, Plague Knight tossed the bomb in a tall arc, aiming for as much airtime as possible.  
The bomb hit the hillside with a thud, causing the archer to look down. 

BOOM!

The explosion knocked the man off his feet. The smoke had barely cleared by the time Plague Knight was on him, straddling his chest and yanking the bow out of his hands.

“Hee! Sorry,” he crooned, “just going to need this!”

He paused, then lifted a pouch at the man’s side off his person, “Heh, and this!”

He slung the bow over his shoulder, and tucked the pouch into his robes. Then he hopped up, bouncing off the man -who gave an agonized cry- and beetling back across the hills. 

Back where the minions were, a little war was waging. The larger fighting members -two ex-sack men- were using their travel packs to shield the others from arrows. Meanwhile, the armoured woman was clumsily swinging her sword at the footpad, just managing to parry his own blade. The other minions were cowering behind Mona, who was visibly trying to call on her magic.   
Plague Knight avoided them once he was sure they weren’t in too much danger, and headed for the other archer.   
Plague Knight thought this one would be just as easy to tackle, since he was busy shooting at the group. However, this one’s eyes were quite sharp, and he managed to pick Plague Knight out amongst the rolling hills.  
An arrow shaft sprouted from the ground nearby, and Plague Knight hopped, indignantly.

“Hey!” he shouted, “That wasn’t very nice!!”

The archer gave him a cursory glance as he fired back at the group, then shot another arrow almost lackadaisically at the alchemist’s feet. 

“Hey!!” shouted Plague Knight, even louder, “Don’t write me off!!”

He dove behind a hill and primed another bomb. He tossed it over the hillside, angrily, then hopped over to catch the explosion. The bomb hadn’t quite hit its mark, and merely tossed the archer back. The man was stumbling away from the smoking crater in the ground, looking shocked. He looked down to see that his bowstring had snapped in the confusion. His face darkened.

“Oi! You!” he snarled at Plague Knight, who was standing on the hill adjacent to his, “You broke my bleedin’ string!!”

Plague Knight simply responded by laughing, and bomb-bursted directly at the other man. Green flames wreathed him as he fell through the air, aiming to tackle the archer. Unfortunately, the man was quick. He drew a dagger as Plague Knight descended, causing the alchemist to have to break his momentum by tossing another bomb. This one sent clods of earth spraying up in Plague Knight’s face, sending him stumbling back, disoriented.   
The archer was on him in seconds, slashing with his dagger. Plague Knight leapt back, hopping over the ground like an overgrown sparrow. He wanted to bomb-burst, but he couldn’t stay still long enough to do one. He needed to think about this, carefully. More often than not, his size and weakness meant that he had to overcome larger, stronger foes by way of tricks and cunning. This was no exception. 

“Heehee! You’ll never hit me,” he crowed, slowing his movements just enough so that every jab almost hit. It was a dangerous ploy, to be sure, but if it worked… “So just give up, now, before you… get STRUNG out, heeheehaha!”

“Stay still, you bleeder,” snarled the man, lashing out more furiously with his gleaming dagger. 

“Too slow without your bow?” cooed Plague Knight, playfully, “Too bad! So sad! Heeheehee!!!”

This was enough, it seemed, for the man drew his arm back just hard enough. Plague Knight dropped a bomb, then braced himself. The man threw his entire weight at Plague Knight, trying to skewer him, and, as he had predicted, overbalanced ever so slightly as Plague Knight dodged. This was enough to buy just enough time for the wick to burn down, and for Plague Knight to make a little leap. 

BOOM!

Up into the air he soared, straight up, cloak billowing black against the bright blue sky. The archer under him was caught in the blast, and Plague Knight’s descent saw him tumbling hard onto his chest. The man let out a breathless grunt as he was trodden upon, then lay still.  
Plague Knight gently stepped off of him, and promptly raided his pockets. After retrieving another pouch, he realized the bow he’d stolen from the other footpad had disappeared. Must have broken during the fight. Oh well…

Plague Knight stashed his ill-gotten gains and padded back to where the group was. They seemed to be celebrating, as he approached; one of the sack-men was sitting on top of the footpad they’d been tangling with, and the armoured-lady was looking flushed but happy. She also appeared to be nursing some kind of wound. She was sitting on the ground, clutching her leg.

“You were amazing!” the young mushroom-gatherer was shouting, “You totally– uhh– out-sworded him!!”

“Heh, I-I couldn’t have done it without the others covering for me,” she mumbled, shyly.

Plague Knight dropped down amongst them, chuckling.

“Heehee! I see number three’s been dealt with in my absence! Well done!”

“No thanks to you!” cried the mushroom-gatherer, “You ran away! I saw you! You went for the hills at the first sign of––”

Plague Knight pushed the shouting teenager out of the way and knelt beside the armoured woman.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” he asked, “Move those hands, heh.”

The woman reluctantly pulled her hands away from her knee. Plague Knight winced. Ah. The missing poleyn. She’d never replaced it. There was a large gash in the side of her knee, extending just around the back. Of course the footpad had gone for a weak spot. And a doozy of one, too. Plague Knight wondered how she’d managed to fight him without staying on her feet.

“Cloth! I need cloth,” he barked, sharply, “And water!”

They hadn’t really come prepared to deal with injuries. Plague Knight hadn’t thought the trip would be so dangerous.  
Water was offered, and the gatherer himself tore strips off his tunic and offered them. He still seemed to be upset by Plague Knight’s disappearance, but Plague Knight didn’t care.

“Where do you think the archers went, dummy?” he snapped, before tending to the armoured woman’s wound. He had to make sure she was wrapped up tight; the slash had thankfully missed any large arteries, but there was damage to the ligament, and still a copious amount of blood. He worked diligently to clean and disinfect the wound with the most applicable of the chemicals he’d brought with him.  
When he was satisfied, he stood up and surveyed the group.

“Heehee! Any other injuries..?”

Most shook their heads. One of the sack men motioned to his shoulder. 

“Just a little arrow nick. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Wash it,” Plague Knight instructed, “We don’t want it getting infected… Now. On we go! Someone help the lady walk!”

The mushroom-gatherer, who seemed to have appointed himself her companion, helped the armoured woman to her feet and supported her as they walked. The day was beginning to draw to a close. The light had gone golden, and shadows were lengthening over the soft green hills. Mona swept to Plague Knight’s side. She gave him a careful little look-over, before nodding slightly and folding her arms.

“Thanks,” she muttered, “Those archers were a pain. I kept trying to summon their bows away, but…”

She scowled and looked away.

“Heh, it’s fine, Mona,” said Plague Knight, gently, “I took care of them.”

“…I’m just annoyed I couldn’t help,” she mumbled, “But whatever. Right now, I think we should make camp. The lady knight won’t get far on that leg and she probably needs rest. She’s not the best fighter but she put her all in. Plus, we don’t want to get surprised again… We should find somewhere out of the way.”

Plague Knight nodded. He supposed she was right. He’d wanted to keep walking -that detour had cost them precious travel time- but the knight needed at least some time to heal. Sending her home with injuries wouldn’t be advantageous to either of them. 

“The forest over there,” said Mona, pointing to a grove of dark trees nearby, “Looks thick enough to keep us hidden.”

“And if there’s anything hiding in there?”

“We’ll keep watch. It’s as good a place as any. Out here’s too open.”

“Heh, alright.”

Plague Knight turned to the group and announced the change in course. The minions seemed happy at the prospect of rest, and followed him to the trees without complaint. As they approached, the air began to cool as the sun dipped below the horizon, aided by the dense, shady trees.   
They kept moving, carefully creeping along and keeping their ears peeled for ominous noises. But apart from soft wildlife sounds, none seemed to present themselves. In fact, as they reached a large clearing, the sounds seemed to deaden completely to a soft hush of waves. There was a pool here, deep and dark and overlooked by an enormous fruit-tree.

The minions happily rushed towards the pool, eager to bathe or drink. But Mona quickly held up her hands and shouted.

“STOP!”

The minions stumbled to a halt, turning back to look at her in confusion. Plague Knight peered at her face. It was hard to tell in the gloom, but something about her expression seemed off.

“…Don’t go in there,” she said, wariness pervading her tone.

“What? Why not?” 

“Yeah– I could really use a soak!”

Mona scowled and folded her arms, squinting at the pool. A small, shabby dock extended into it, covered in moss and lichens. The water moved in waves, lapping against the dock and the tree trunk at its centre. 

“…There’s something in there. I can feel it,” she muttered, finally, “This whole place feels… Old. So. Don’t go in there. You’ll probably be eaten, or something.”

As if to illustrate Mona’s point, a single, huge bubble rose to the top of the pond and burst. The minions winced. Several scuttled back to the group, fearfully.

“S-should we leave, then?”

Mona deliberated a moment longer, then shook her head, “No. In fact we’ll probably be safe here. Just don’t go in the water. Don’t touch it at all. Understand?”

The minions nodded and gave the water a wide berth as they made their resting places. Food was dished out, and the water supply was rationed. The mood was fairly subdued after Mona’s outburst, but fatigue played a part as well.  
Plague Knight sat down next to Mona, tittering quietly.

“What was that for?” he whispered, “It was funny, granted, heehee! But if they have any more excitement, they’re gonna start dropping!”

“I wasn’t joking,” replied Mona, flatly, “There really is something in there. I can feel it. …Can’t you?”

Plague Knight blinked. He glanced over at the water. Sure, this place had a sort of solemn feeling about it, but old forests like this often did. 

“Heh, it just seems kind of gloomy,” Plague Knight replied, “What… Heh, what do you feel?”

Mona stared at the water.

“…Like I said. Old. Really old,” she hunched over, wrapping her arms around her knees and propping her head up on them, “And… It’s… hard to explain.”

Plague Knight nodded. He decided to leave it, for now. They ate together in silence, appreciating the coolness after the sweltering day. It was too dark to read by, so Mona had put her book away. She seemed disgruntled and antsy at not having anything to do. Plague Knight hoped she didn’t still feel guilty about her powerlessness during the footpad raid. It wasn’t her fault; she was only just getting the hang of her magic, and she’d never received any combat training whatsoever. 

“You should sleep,” she muttered, startling him out of his thoughts, “You fought well today.”

“Heh, I don’t need to sleep, Mona.”

“But it’s too dark to do anything,” she sounded annoyed, “So you might as well. One can never get enough sleep, right?”

“Hmph. Don’t play the health card on me,” he grumped back at her, “I’m a… not-quite-doctor. I know what I can get away with.”

“Fine, then. If you’re going to stay awake, take the first watch. Wake me up when you get tired.”

Plague Knight nodded, and stood up to find a good perch. The minions had all settled down by now, and the sound of snoring was quickly filling the clearing. Plague Knight hoped it wouldn’t interfere with his watch.   
Before beginning his vigil, he went to check on the armoured woman. She seemed to still be awake.

“I’m sorry, boss,” she muttered, “I shouldn’t have let him get me…”

“A lesson for next time, then, heh,” replied Plague Knight, airily, “Just rest up so you can get back on your feet tomorrow. When we reach the Armour Outpost, we can perhaps attend to your injury properly…” 

“I’ll try, sir,” she mumbled, “But I don’t feel much like sleeping.”

“…Then keep watch. If you hear anything suspicious… heehee! Bang that armour together as loud as you can!”

“Yes, sir!”

 

The night’s watch was uneventful. Apart from the sounds of sleeping minions, nothing disturbed the pond and its visitors. Plague Knight found himself getting very bored, which made him antsy. To alleviate his nerves, he jogged on the spot. 

“…What are you doing?”

Plague Knight jumped. Mona had some how crept up beside him. He could barely see her through the gloom; she was only visible as a deeper patch of darkness.

“Heehee! Just burning off some stress.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m awake. I’ll take your spot.”

“I’m fine, Mona! I can stay up all night!”

Mona groaned, “Ugh. You’re so stubborn.”

She shuffled closer and plopped herself down next to him. 

“Heh. You can go back to sleep, you know.”

“Don’t want to.”

“…Alright…” 

Plague Knight stopped jogging and stood silently next to his partner. She sat hunched on the ground, a quiet black shape amongst the other black shapes.  
The little alchemist nearly jumped out of his skin when she was suddenly illuminated in a burst of blue light, which quickly faded.

“W-what was that?!” he hissed.

“Hungry,” she replied, tersely, “Just got myself a snack.”

A reddish-orange blob wobbled in front of his eyes in the wake of her spell. 

“Heh… You’re getting used to using magic, aren’t you?”

“Sort of. I was thinking about earlier,” Plague Knight heard Mona chewing on whatever she’d summoned, “It’sh… Mm… It’s… I think I can only get things that I know already. I could summon that ladle in the bar because I saw the bartender using it. I got the gold from the hiding place because I watched you burry it… And I could get the bread because I packed it myself. But the bows… I couldn’t see them. So…” 

Plague Knight nodded, thoughtfully, “Hmm, well. I suppose all power has its limits. Maybe you’ll overcome that when you get a better hang of it, heh. I mean, you haven’t been using magic for very long, now, have you? You’re sure to improve!”

“Yeah…” the single monosyllabic word practically oozed bitterness.

Plague Knight could understand the feeling; Mona had only had command her powers fairly recently. Prior to now, she’d been raised to believe that they would kill her on use. The two of them were deeply curious individuals with healthy appetites for knowledge, and Plague Knight knew that if someone had been lying about such information to him, he’d be absolutely infuriated. Mona’s magic was full of potential, and being robbed of the ability to explore it was a despicable crime.  
He was glad he’d befriended her when he did. He hated to think of her going on not knowing about all the promise she contained.   
Perhaps it was the late hour, or all the jogging, or his musings, but Plague Knight’s eyelids began to droop. Before he knew it, he’d dozed off. He only realized he’d done so when he began to have a very peculiar dream.

He was in the same place, curled up against a tree. The pool was still enshrouded in gloom, but the weak, watery light of early morning was filtering in through the trees. There were two indistinct shapes moving before him. One was enormous, and bulky, and the other tall and lithe. They swayed together, rhythmically, back and forth to some kind of tune he could only half hear. He watched in confusion, unable to move or speak, his brain completely fogged. Eventually the almost hypnotic motions lulled him back into dreamlessness. He only awoke properly later to the sound of loud, vigorous crunching. 

He sat up blearily, looking around. The minions were all gathered a little ways from the pond. It seemed they were the source of the noise.

“Boss!”

“Oh, Boss!”

Several of them had noticed Plague Knight waking up, and were waving to him.

“Come, come and see!!”

“Come look what Ms. Mona found!!”

Plague Knight pushed himself to his feet and trotted over, curiously. There, in the centre of the ring of minions, sat Mona. She was looking inscrutable, and holding her skirts, which were full of… apples?   
In fact, now that Plague Knight was more awake, he realized every minion had at least two in their hands. They were all eating happily, clearly joyful at the newfound source of food.

“Come have some, Master!” cried the ex-courier, offering Plague Knight one of the shiny red fruits, “There’s plenty to go around!”

Plague Knight ignored him and snapped his fingers.

“Fine fortune indeed!” he trilled, “But you’ve let me oversleep! It’s high time we got back on the road! Pack those up, and get moving, heehee!”

The minions looked a little disappointed, but did as they were told. Mona tipped the apples into one of the sack-man’s sacks, and stood up, brushing down her robes. Plague Knight zipped to her side.

“Hee! Where did those come from?! You didn’t summon them, did you?”

“No…I just… found them,” she muttered, evasively, “They’ll be good for the road.”

“Heehee, yes, indeed! Let’s get back on it!”

 

The last leg of the journey to the Armour Outpost was far less eventful than the first. The terrain flattened out into rugged expanses of rock and dirt, and apart from the errant monster, there were no enemies to speak of. The simpler turf allowed the group to make better travel time, which managed to gain them back the time they’d lost during the encounter with the footpads.   
As they trooped onwards, two enormous edifices came into view. One was a ruined, black castle with four decrepit turrets, and the other was a smaller but much livelier fort. The fort had a handsome airship docked above it, floating peacefully in the sky and casting a shadow over the land. The minions whispered excitedly when they caught sight of it.

“Ooh, look!”

“It’s the Aerial Anvil!! I never thought I’d see it in person!”

“How impressive!”

Plague Knight noticed Mona giving the ship moony eyes as well. He smirked a little, under his mask.

“Like it?”

“Oh, uh… Mm,” replied Mona, reticently, her cheeks turning turquoise. 

“If there’s time… we should take a look inside, heehee… For uuhhhhh, research purposes…”

Plague Knight’s smirk grew wider as he noticed Mona’s lips twitch. 

Eventually, the group made it to the large entryway to the walled town, and requested passage through the huge, fortified doors. The inside resembled The Village quite a bit, both in content and size. More wattle-and-daub buildings and dusty, cobblestone streets. The high walls and the presence of the Aerial Anvil threw most of the place into shadow, but it was surely welcome on hot days. Lanterns lit the gloomy streets as darkness began to shroud the landscape, and Plague Knight kept his eyes peeled for a suitable rest stop. They would need to find a healer for the armoured woman; the sooner she was back on her feet -literally-, the better.  
The mushroom-gatherer was doing a good job of supporting her, despite his shorter stature. He seemed to have taken quite the shine to her. Plague Knight hoped he wouldn’t have to break up any trysts in the near future. The very thought made him wriggle in discomfort. 

Luckily, there was a rather large inn in the town, and the bartender happened to know a nearby physician as well. The mushroom-gatherer and the courier were tasked with getting the patient there safely. Plague Knight dropped one of the footpad archer’s purses into the courier’s hands.

“This should cover the bill. Return once you have the official verdict on the heal-time… and don’t be late, heehee!”

The courier saluted importantly, then scuttled off to join the other two. Plague Knight watched them go for a moment, hoping dismally they wouldn’t run into trouble, then rejoined the rest of the group in the inn. The minions were already settled in, sprawling out in their seats and ordering pints of juice. Plague Knight ruefully assumed he’d be the one paying for it. And… speaking of money…  
Plague Knight pulled out the second archer’s purse and counted out twenty gold pieces, then sidled up to Mona.

“Here you are,” he said, hopping onto the barstool next to her and holding out his fistful of currency.

“…Huh?”

“Hee, we made a bet, remember? That that silly blue Knight would fall in the hole? And he didn’t, so… Twenty gold to you, heehee!”

Mona stared at Plague Knight with a look of bewilderment before taking the gold and turning away. As she did so, Plague Knight caught the corners of her lips twitching upwards.

“…I totally forgot,” she muttered, a hint of amusement in her voice. Her face was just hidden by her short crop of blue-purple hair, but Plague Knight knew she was smirking.

“Well, a nice little surprise, then, hee!”

Mona snorted quietly, and seemed just about to reply when she was sharply cut off by a wail from down the bar.

“OH WOE!! WOE IS ME!!”

Plague Knight snapped his attention to this rather rude interruption. A sandy-haired, chestnut Stallion was sitting nearby, cradling his long muzzle in his hooves and sniffling pathetically. He appeared to be a scholar, by the look of his outfit, though his attitude didn’t quite match…

“BARTENDER, ANOTHER JUICE… PLEASE…”

“Percy, that’s the sixth one tonight… I don’t think–“

“I don’t CARE what you think!” cried the Equine, banging a hoof on the table and then laying his head down upon it to weep, “Everyone is always thinking things that aren’t true! Things like ‘Percy’s too busy chasing tails to calculate trajectories!’ and ‘Percy’s not fit to run the Anvil Catapult!’ and ‘Lance is far more capable of the job, let’s give it to him!!’ I’m tired of it, I tell you!! So give me that juice!!”

Mona’s eyes slid towards Plague Knight, who met them with raised eyebrows. Not that she could see it, of course, but he was sure she knew he was giving her the same incredulous look. 

“Somebody’s having a bad day,” he said, testily, peering at the miserable Stallion, “And he’s spreading it to ours. As I doctor, I don’t approve, heehee.”

“As much as I love watching you wreak havoc,” said Mona, “Let’s not start another bar fight. This place is full of smiths…”

She turned in her seat to point out the brawny, broody bunch dotting the landscape of the inn. Plague Knight smirked.

“I could take them.”

“Nnno you couldn’t.”

“Yes I could!”

“All at once?”

“I’d turn them all against each other like pawns in a game of chess! They’d finish the fight for me, heehee!”

“I’d be more confident if you sounded like you’d actually played a single game of chess before,” replied Mona, but her tone was affectionately teasing, and had been for the duration of their banter. 

Part of Plague Knight really did want to prove to Mona that he could defeat every big, burly smith in the house, but the ensuing scuffle probably wouldn’t be worth it. They couldn’t count on things turning out like they had at the Lich Yard a second time. 

As the evening wore on, rooms were rented for the evening, and word of the armoured woman’s condition was relayed by the enthusiastic courier. According to the healer, she was responding well to treatment, and she would be issued a nice crutch to help her on her way.   
After all was settled, Plague Knight tugged Mona out into the darkened streets, towards the middle of the town. A skillfully employed smoke-bomb distracted the knight on guard-duty, and then it was a mad scuttle up the rope-ladder to the slumbering Aerial Anvil. 

It was empty, its occupants having gone home for the day, but it was no less spectacular. Despite the gloom, the inside was very clearly spacious and filled with all manner of smithing equipment. Mona lit up as she always did when something piqued her interest. She darted stealthily around the floating armoury, calling in a hushed voice that she was looking for the engine room.

“Ooh, someday,” she breathed, as she pried disappointedly at a locked door, “Someday, I’m going to build something like this. All sorts of things like this!”

“I thought you wanted to be an alchemist?” whispered Plague Knight.

“I can be two things,” she hissed back. She paused, then let go of the door and folded her arms, “Of course I want to be an alchemist. I just… I like machines, too. I’m… I mean…”

“Heh. I was just teasing…”

Mona shuffled, slightly, before moving away from the door and standing next to Plague Knight. He peered up at her shadowy figure. It was always a little awkward when they stood so close, seeing as he came face-to-face with her navel when he stared straight ahead. He always had to crane his neck upwards to look at her face. It was shrouded in gloom, at the moment, but she seemed to be staring off across the chamber.   
She remained quiet for the rest of the evening. Plague Knight hoped he hadn’t upset her. Especially since he’d only been half joking. He didn’t mind that she liked machines and contraptions, but it wasn’t a discipline he was well-versed in. He strayed closer to the biological end of the scientific spectrum, while she wandered off to the mechanical side. They met in the middle with alchemy… and he wanted to stay there. He liked being there, with her. Yet, at the same time, he did appreciate her curiosity. He simply didn’t want to be left behind… Perhaps he’d need to bone up on his mechanical knowledge… 

These thoughts rolled around in circles in his brain as he lay awake, listening to Mona snoring quietly from the other bed. The next thing he knew, it was morning. 

\- - -

The trip to the Slotholm keep began early the next day. They reached the foot of its crumbling black majesty before lunch, and the minions set up a quick camp while Plague Knight scuttled up to get a closer look. Rubble and dirt clods seemed to cover most of the walls, obscuring any possible ways into the abandoned building. Plague Knight stroked his mask, thoughtfully.

“Hmm… I could bomb my way in,” he said aloud as he heard Mona come to stand beside him, “But I’m not sure how structurally sound it is… I might bring the whole thing down by accident, heehee!”

“And as exhilarating as you’d probably find that, that would definitely put a dent in our plans?” asked Mona, raising an eyebrow. 

“Hee! You read my mind,” replied Plague Knight, gleefully.

He stared up at the turrets above. They seemed to be less damaged. There could be a way in, up there. But how to get to it? Suddenly, an idea struck him.

“Mona… Isn’t there a catapult atop the Aerial Anvil?” 

“Apparently… Thinking of taking a little flight?”

Plague Knight giggled maniacally, “Heehee! Let’s go pay it a visit, shall we?”

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. Upon reaching the catapult, they found a young Stallion in attendance. He didn’t seem very impressed by Plague Knight’s request; in fact, he refused it outright. 

“This catapult has a fixed trajectory,” he said, folding his arms, “Changing it will hold up traffic to The Village.”

“I don’t see a line,” said Plague Knight, testily. 

“If you want a destination change, you’re going to have to put in a request with my supervisor,” replied the Stallion, still refusing to budge.

Plague Knight would have bombed the man off the airship, but he didn’t want to damage it or the precious catapult mounted upon it. He was just beginning to coalesce some kind of plan, when Mona tapped his shoulder.

“Think of some way to get this guy away from here,” she muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

Plague Knight cocked his head curiously, but allowed her to go without a fuss. Whatever she was up to, she seemed confident about it.   
As she left, Plague Knight decided to simply do exactly what the Stallion had instructed… in the most disruptive way possible.

“Take me to your supervisor!” he insisted, storming back up to the Equine, “You didn’t tell me where they are!”

“He’s down in the Outpost. There’s an office––“

“Take me there!” squawked Plague Knight, insistently. 

“But I can’t leave my post!”

“Well, then, I guess I’ll have to put in a complaint as well,” the little alchemist groused, “‘Attendant not helpful at all, hindered my progress and was incredibly rude!’ Oh, and did I mention I’m here on a mission from the King of Pridemoor, heehee..?”

This was enough to finally pry the Stallion away from the airship. Down in the Outpost, Plague Knight did his best to make a nuisance of himself. Luckily, this was his forte; five minutes in, and the attendant’s supervisor had pulled the poor Stallion aside for a ‘private chat’. Plague Knight took the opportunity to scuttle back up to the Aerial Anvil. When he arrived, he found Mona standing next to the catapult, and with her was…

“Greetings and salutations!” cried a joyous voice. 

Plague Knight’s mood immediately plummeted. Fiddling with the catapult’s machinery was none other than the obnoxious scholar from the bar. Today, however, he seemed in much higher spirits. 

“Charmed to make your acquaintance! I am sir Percival, scholar of ballistic physics and trajectories! And you must be the client, a mister..?”

Plague Knight looked between Mona and the Equine incredulously. He understood Mona’s plan, and it was suitably devious… But he really didn’t want to interact with this guy. From his wailing at the bar, he didn’t seem like the most competent, or even pleasant person. But Mona was giving Plague Knight a sharp look, so he straightened up.

“Plague Knight,” he introduced himself, “Alchemist. And… fellow scholar of ballistics, heehee.”

“Oh! A man of mathematics, are you? I see I’m in good company!” cried Sir Percival, jovially, “Just call me Percy, my good man! Now, come here…”

Plague Knight approached, warily. 

“Your lovely assistant has told me…”

“Partner,” Plague Knight and Mona corrected simultaneously. Plague Knight stifled a snicker.

“My apologies! Your lovely partner here has told me that you wish to reach the keep over yonder..?”

“Yes. Just toss me onto the battlements, heehee! I need to find a way in that isn’t blocked by rubble or dirt… It’s rather precise. Do you think you can manage?”

“Can I manage?!” the Equine neighed with laughter, “My good sir! You are speaking to an expert! I shall set you down so gently upon yon battlements, that you shan’t even believe you were flying!”

Plague Knight shrugged and climbed into the bucket. He looked back to see Percy making a few last adjustments, and Mona smirking at him. He gave her a blithe little wave before turning back and staring hungrily at the looming black castle in the distance. 

KA-CHUNCK!

The restraining rope let loose and the arm launched Plague Knight into the air. He soared through the bright blue sky, cackling with delight. He loved flying; being deprived of it during his younger years had taken a great toll on him. Gliding gracefully amongst the clouds was a feeling like no other, and had been, in part, what inspired him to develop the Bomb Burst technique in the first place. The rush of wind was exhilarating, and he felt the urge to spread his arms wide. Unfortunately, he couldn’t, as catapults were rather delicate instruments; a single slip-up in the flight and you could end up completely off course.  
It seemed, however, that he didn’t need to make any mistakes himself, as he soon began to realize that something was very, very off about his trajectory. He was heading towards the Slotholm keep, alright. But he wasn’t going to land on the battlements.

Plague Knight scrambled in midair, desperately trying to stop himself as he soared right over his target. He bomb-bursted in midair, which broke his fall a little. He hit the edge of the inner wall of the ruined keep and felt an intense spike of agony rattle up his legs. He fell, then, into the building, bouncing off broken stone and mounds of earth. When he finally rolled to a stop, he was completely out of breath and in considerable pain. One of his legs was clearly broken; but that came of having bones like his. The other one hurt a lot, but it seemed to be able to carry his weight. Plague Knight rummaged in his robes for his Sweet Vitriol and inhaled a lungful or two. He took a moment to catch his breath and let the effects of the chemicals deaden the pain and muddle his mood. 

“Hee… Hee… I’m going to kill that horse…” he wheezed aloud, slowly pulling himself up on a nearby chunk of rubble. 

The inside of the keep was a total mess; its erstwhile contents were broken or burned, and the entire place seemed to be buried under a layer of dirt. Rats scampered from crevice to crevice, dark birds perched in shadowy alcoves, and holes permeated the many floors. The walls themselves, however, actually seemed to be fairly sound; Plague Knight noted the lack of damage to them. Maybe he could bomb his way through the entrances after all… That would save them a lot of digging time. He hobbled from broken stone to broken stone, dragging his useless leg behind him. The place would take some time to clean out, of course, but with some renovation… yes… it would be serviceable. More than serviceable, in fact. For a moment, Plague Knight could picture a cavernous, echoing hall filled to the brim with alchemical constructs. Glass beakers glittered, centrifuges spun, flames sent coloured bursts of light playing across the gloomy walls… Even the smell of chemicals was almost on the edge of his nose…

He was about to give a triumphant cackle, when a rumbling sound caught his attention. The ground was beginning to move. Boney, greenish hands burst forth from the earth as undead began to pull themselves out of the ground.   
Ah yes. That little snag.

Plague Knight did his best to clamber on top of a nearby pile of collapsed forge equipment, hoping his assailants wouldn’t be coming up through it. He lobbed bombs towards anything that moved, sending clods of earth and shattered bone everywhere.

“Hee! Stay away,” he called, gleefully, “Or you’ll meet the same fate!”

The undead didn’t seem to listen. They simply kept coming.

“Sheesh. Was this place built on a cemetery, or something? How gauche,” he quipped. 

He was just about to toss another bomb when a flash of blue light pierced the air in front of him. Out of it came Mona, who staggered, overbalanced, and fell on top of him. Luckily for the both of them, she managed to catch herself before she crushed him, awkwardly straddling him instead. Her green face was as near to his as possible, her nose inches away from the tip of his beak. He was surprised she hadn’t poked an eye out by accident. 

“Plague Knight!”

“Haha– Hello, Mona! Nice of you to pop in!”

“You–– You’re… Okay.”

Mona heaved a deep sigh and rolled off him to cling to the heap of scrap. Plague Knight took this opportunity to lob another bomb at the encroaching dead.

“Gods. That took me four tries,” she shuddered, “G… Good to see… I mean… You’re okay, right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” he said, still tossing bombs, “Just a few bruises and a broken leg…”

“A broken––?” Mona smacked her forehead, “Alright. Okay. I’ll just. Take you out the same way I came in, shall I?”

“By teleportation?” Plague Knight winced, “You said it took you four tries.”

“W-well, how else are we going to get out of here?”

“Fine, fine…” He had to admit, he was glad to see her. 

“We have to get somewhere flat. Can you stand?”

“Mostly, heehee…”

Mona offered her arm, and Plague Knight took it, tossing one last bomb at the oncoming skeletons.

Mona helped him down the pile of trash and navigated to a fairly unencumbered stretch of ground. 

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

“Heehee! Just mind the leg!”

Mona gingerly reached down and lifted him into her arms, bridal-style. She’d done this before -more than once, actually- and Plague Knight was beginning to get used to it. It helped that he didn’t mind her touch, otherwise it would be far more uncomfortable. He usually loathed physical contact, but he trusted Mona enough to allow her to handle him when needed.   
Mona cradled him like a child -which was rather embarrassing- and took a few steps back. The sound of groaning began to permeate the area again. Mona took a few graceful steps, then did a little whirl. Blue obscured Plague Knight’s vision, blotting out the keep. When it faded, he found himself surrounded by uproar.   
They were in the inn from the previous night, standing on top of the bar. Mona looked back and forth in surprise, then groaned.

“Oh, not again…”

“Again?”

Mona stepped off the bar as the nearby patrons made a fuss. She ignored them, not even offering an apology for her muddy boots, and carried Plague Knight outside. 

“I was aiming for the Anvil. I told you it took four tries to get to you. I just kept popping up in random places… I’m really not good at this…”

“Heh! But you got there in the end! That’s all that matters! Heh… thank you.”

Mona’s green eyes met the lenses of his mask for a moment before she carefully set him down. 

“Um, so…” she held her arm out so that he could lean against her, “I couldn’t really tell, but… Does the keep look good?”

“It’ll take some renovation… But I think it’ll do just fine, heehee!”

Mona’s eyes twinkled with a not-smile, before she tugged him onwards.

“Good. Right. We’re heading to that healer’s.”

“What? Oh, no, Mona, I’m fine–“

“You have a broken leg.”

“Yes, but I can heal it!”

“I’m sure you can, but we’re still going to the healer’s. They’ll have supplies…”

“But I don’t want…”

\- - -

It took about a month to begin the excavation and renovation of the keep. Acquiring it had been easy, as nobody wanted the corpse-infested wreck, but fixing it up would be another matter. Luckily, a few more recruits from the Outpost joined their ranks, and a sense of progress was beginning to set in.   
Plague Knight was able to stabilize and reset his own leg without too much trouble; the bone had splintered ever so slightly, but a healing draught set it all in order. It took him some time to heal, but otherwise, things were beginning to go smoothly again. He was in fairly high spirits, in fact… until Mona came to bring him two pieces of bad news.

“Hey, Plague Knight,” she said, approaching him one evening as he sat in his cot at the healer’s, looking over the diagrams the minions had made of the keep, “I’ve… got some things. To propose to you.”

“Oh? Go on, partner mine,” he said, putting down his writing utensils and peering up at her, curiously. 

She looked slightly hesitant, but his demeanour seemed to encourage her.

“Well. First things first. I’ve decided to include Sir Percival in our newest batch of minions.”

Plague Knight flinched. 

“You WHAT?! Mona! That idiot Equine?! What on earth possessed you to recruit him, haha?!”

“Well… He kind of recruited himself,” she muttered, scowling, “When he heard what we were up to, he seemed really keen to join. And apparently he wants to make up for flinging you into the wall of the keep.”

“Heh. He just wants to get back at his old boss,” said Plague Knight, folding his arms.

“…Probably. But we could actually use someone like him on the team. He swears what happened was just a fluke. And he could be really useful…” 

Plague Knight sighed, and sulked even further, “Rrrrmmmm…”

“Don’t worry. You won’t have to deal with him,” said Mona, half wearily and half reassuringly, “I’ll be taking him with me.”

“Heh. I’d better not. The next time I see him, I’ll––“ he broke off, looking up at Mona in confusion, “W-wait a minute. Taking him with you? Taking him with you where?”

Mona drew back slightly and folded her arms, looking away.

“I… I’ve been thinking about all this. The keep, and… what you plan to do with it after it’s finished…”

Plague Knight waited for her to continue, feeling a little nervous.

“…And I was thinking. We’re going to need a lot of minions, right? So… I think it would be best… if we split up for a while.”

“W…wha..?”

“Just– I mean… Look, here’s my plan,” Mona seemed to be trying to collect her thoughts, “When I say split up, I just mean, geographically. I’m going to head back to The Village, set up a little… station, as it were. I’m going to keep my eyes out for new recruits. The Village does a lot trading, meaning a lot of people go through it all the time. And apparently there’s been a catapult line between there and the Outpost for some time now. Heh. Guess we could have skipped the trek up here…”

Plague Knight winced. 

“Anyway, the point is. You’re going to be busy with the fort. But you’re also going to need a big workforce. So I’m going to go back to The Village and start putting feelers out, and any time I pull in a new member, I’ll send them straight up to you. That way you don’t have to worry about manpower. I can also manage funding from there, since it’s so close to Pridemoor… It’ll be far more efficient that way.”

“Heh, that does sound sensible…” muttered Plague Knight. Mona was always full of good ideas. But…

Mona was quiet. She sat down on the edge of his bed. She seemed like she was trying to say something, but every time she opened her mouth, she closed it again. Plague Knight tapped his fingers together.

“…It’s a good idea. I like it. Heh. I-I’m not hesitating because I don’t like it,” he began, uncertainly, “It’s just, haha… hee… It will be rather different… with… without you.”

Mona folded her hands in her lap. 

“…When the fort is done, I’ll come back,” she said, and there was a strange note of ferocity in her tone as she spoke, “And of course, I’ll be corresponding. Can’t… can’t really run anything without communication, you know?”

“Oh, yes! Of course, of course…” Plague Knight nodded, “We’ll keep in touch.”

Mona returned his nod.

“So… When do you leave?”

“I was thinking soon. Tonight, maybe, since everything is going so well.”

“Ah…”

There was another silence. Plague Knight steepled his fingers, then perked up a little.

“Heehee… Before you go, why don’t you give it a name?”

“Huh?”

“The fort. It won’t be the Slotholm keep anymore. And you’re ever so good with naming things… Why don’t you give our little enterprise an exciting new title?” 

Mona blinked at him, before looking thoughtful. At length, she spoke.

“…Explodatorium.” 

“Ah?”

“The Explode-atorium. The Place of Explosions. I mean, it’s going to be an alchemy lab, right? A lot of stuff is going to blow up. …Especially with you at the helm.”

She was smirking ever so slightly. Plague Knight grinned under his mask.

“Why Mona… that sounds simply… incendiary! HEE HEE HEE!”


	5. Flowers of Antimony

As the year wore on, news spread of a strange new addition to the population of The Valley. The old Slotholm Keep, which had been overrun by the undead, now had a new purpose and was undergoing renovation. Within its dark, dingy halls resided a group of people who called themselves alchemists.  
The Valley was unfamiliar with the term. Some said it was a new form of magic, while others were sure it was some kind of medicine. Still others believed it to be nothing more than a charlatan’s trickery. Only those who spent their lives travelling far and wide knew the truth about the enigmatic art.  
Leading the alchemists was a man as mysterious as his practice. A short, perpetually giggling fellow with -some said- a touch of madness, who never removed the doctor’s beak strapped to his face. Perhaps this was what lead to some’s belief that alchemy was a type of medicine, but the art provided far more than simple remedies.  
As the Slotholm keep -now unnervingly referred to as the Explodatorium- grew more and more hospitable, a steady trickle of villagers from near and far began to gather, requesting help from its new master. He responded with a variety of creative solutions to their various problems.  
Some received exactly what they asked for, and others were unpleasantly surprised, so it was no shock that the mysterious Plague Knight began to develop a rather contradictory reputation. Depending on who you asked, his services might be recommended, or warned against completely.

Plague Knight himself cared little for his reputation. So long as he had a steady flow of gold and minions to fuel his experiments, he was happy.  
The renovations were taking a long time, but that was to be expected. The damage to the interior of the keep had been quite extensive; he was simply glad the walls were so strong.  
Plague Knight spent long hours overseeing the building of his beloved base, making sure everything went smoothly -or as smoothly as possible. He’d designed much of the interior with high hopes for an impressive and eerie display, though he was beginning to think he might have to simply settle for whatever he got. The minions were enthusiastic, to be sure, but not exactly skilled. Accidents were common, and Plague Knight was often busy brewing up a variety of health potions at all hours of the day. And that didn’t even touch upon the nightmares that began to crop up in the makeshift labs.

Plague Knight found himself with his hands full constantly, and rarely even had time to sleep. Luckily, he was used to staying up long hours, and was beginning to get back into his old groove of vitamin supplements and energy tonics. He only really needed sleep after exerting himself, after all, and alchemy wasn’t all that exhaustive. His only true moments of rest were when he had a few moments to himself, and these little pockets of time were devoted to epistolary endeavours.  
Every week or so, the Mail Minion would happily make his way to the Explodatorium with a bulging letter bag. He often had smaller samples of larger shipments, or pieces of equipment that Plague Knight had ordered, but the only real treat he ever delivered were Mona’s letters from The Village. 

As promised, the two had started up a correspondence when Mona had left to set up at the other settlement, and by all accounts she was doing her job very well. A steady stream of minions trooped to the Explodatorium, ready and eager to join the cause. Apart from recruiting, Mona had plenty to talk about in her letters. She had set herself on a great quest for common knowledge, striking out to tailors, cooks and launders to learn all the simple drudges of every day life, and she seemed to be loving every minute of it. Plague Knight couldn’t help but smile as he read things like ’Today I tackled the finer points of darning a sock’ or ‘Okay, I burnt my first cottage pie. But I took copious notes. Next time, I’ll have something edible for supper.’  
There was something amusing in her simple wonder over little things like that; the way she approached them was almost scientific in nature. Though he supposed this was the natural reaction of a Noblewoman alchemist.  
When she wasn’t gushing over her mundane chores, she was relaying information on their assets. The King’s money was steadily draining away, and Plague Knight had to keep on top of offering services to nearby settlements to supplement it. They laid out their earnings and losses in little figure charts at the bottom of every letter. Sometimes, Mona’s came back with little sketches of funny people she’d seen in The Village.  
All in all, Mona’s letters were always an informative, friendly reprieve from the chaos of the Explodatorium. This, in fact, was the bulk of what Plague Knight wrote about to his partner when it came time to reply to her letters. 

Recently, he’d begun filling finished -or almost finished- chambers with alchemical equipment and holding lessons for the few minions who weren’t on duty. Teaching was both enjoyable and useful, as it meant that he could delegate production tasks to other people while he supervised the wider goings on. The first lesson had been health potions, as they were in sharp demand. Injuries from construction -as well as undead attacks- were common, and it would be good to have a large, quickly available stock at all times.  
These first lessons didn’t go half badly; apart from the hiccups caused by general incompetence, the minions learned quickly and safely how to produce several different types of restorative draught. 

It was only when Plague Knight began to get into the more dangerous aspects of alchemy that things -predictably- began to go to hell.

“What are you doing?! I’ve told you a thousand times, hee! Add vitriol to water, not the other way around!”

“No, you nincompoop! Just because it’s clear does NOT mean you can handle it with your bear hands!”

“Of course you caught on fire, hee! You were just working with flammable powders! LIE DOWN AND ROLL AROUND IMMEDIATELY!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DRANK IT?!!”

He’d known, of course, from the beginning, that his followers wouldn’t exactly be scientific geniuses. But he’d never imagined, even in his wildest nightmares, that they’d be this astoundingly stupid. The demand for health potions, and even emergency medical procedures increased as the idiotic minions floundered about the new labs, tripping over their own feet and spilling all manner of dangerous chemicals.  
Plague Knight screamed himself hoarse at them, and more than a few had to excuse themselves in tears. He quickly learned which ones were better off on the construction teams, and which were better suited to the labs, but even then things went wrong.  
Even the most intelligent of the minions still seemed to make mistake after disastrous mistake, sloughing off horrendous amounts of skin, catching on fire or getting extremely ill.  
Plague Knight kept his medical experiments to himself. If they were this clumsy with simple science, the far more delicate world of biology would certainly mutate into a tiny apocalypse under their unskilled ministrations. He might call himself Plague Knight, but he didn’t want any escaping. 

Originally, Plague Knight had asked Mona to screen any new recruits, telling her to choose them based on intelligence. Unfortunately, most of the cleverer villagers already had fulfilling employment, or else were clever enough to stay away. So Plague Knight had to figure out a different solution to his problem.  
A proper set of protective gear came to mind. If the minions were determined to hurt themselves, he would simply have to make sure they couldn’t.

He started out with scores of plain brown robes, similar to the ones that served as the uniform at the ill-fated Academy of Alchemy. These worked to keep out splash-back from the more volatile experiments, but the minions began to complain of injuries to their hands and even feet. 

“Well, if you weren’t constantly sticking your bare fingers into beakers, heehee, you might not have that problem!” quipped Plague Knight in annoyance as he instructed the complainer to submerge their melting hands in a small pot of warm red liquid.

To combat this new batch of idiocy, Plague Knight crafted gloves and boots to protect the extremities. These worked fairly well for a time. He no longer had complaints of missing fingernails or broken ankles to contend with. But then came the blast injuries.

“And you simply watched the wick burn down, did you? And why was that?”

“Uhm… Uh… F-for science?”

“Heehee! Nice try.”

He should have seen this one coming; explosives were, by their very nature, dangerous. But then again, everybody knew this. Everybody knew that explosives were prone to killing and maiming people, and might therefor employ a little more care and caution in their presence. But perhaps Plague Knight made it look too easy, or the minions thought their new title of ‘alchemist’ made them invincible… or maybe they were just completely addlepated. Whatever the reason, minions continued to blow themselves up, often with gruesome results. Casualties mounted, and Plague Knight really hated having to inform next of kin and pay for funerals. 

In response, the cloaks were altered, giving them heavier padding, aprons, and thick, heavy hoods to protect the cranium from impact damage. He even treated the lot with antimony to make them completely fireproof. And yet, even this was not enough to stem the flow of injuries.

“My eyes!!!”

“Ugh, my throat!”

“My sinuses!!”

The face. Of course. How had he been such a fool? Plague Knight cursed himself as the most obvious and sensitive nexus of the body was left unguarded. Minions merrily destroyed each of their five senses regularly. They invented nothing but new ways to ruin their lives day by day. The most common injury was poisoning; as many times as Plague Knight stressed proper decontamination and cleanliness to his staff, they always seemed to forget when their hands were covered in lethal powders and pastes. A quick trip to the makeshift cafeteria later, and they’d be curled up in agony, clutching their stomachs. And all this hardly covered the damage caused simply by inhaling too many fumes. 

The easiest and best solution was to simply block off all passage to the face itself. Thusly, Plague Knight developed the masks. Scores and scores of beaks, very similar to his own, carefully tailored to each minion’s face and filled with plenty of sweet smelling herbs and stimulants. The thick material prevented shrapnel and vitriol damage, and the structure kept the minions from inhaling or imbibing anything on the job. The length of the beak tended to keep their actual faces far away from anything dangerous, as well. 

As the casualties dropped, the standard uniform quickly became finalized. The heavy cloaks and masks also had the bonus of making the minions hot; the sweatier they were, the more likely they were to properly bathe or refresh themselves when exiting the lab, meaning better hygiene and safety all around. Soon, the Explodatorium was full of faceless, birdlike people in green and pink robes. The uniform brought about a sort of feeling of unity and teamwork amongst the minions, which actually seemed to improve their moods. 

At this point, Plague Knight decided to upgrade his own manner of dress. He’d been so busy that he’d been running around in his old sack-cloth robes for some time now, and the things were practically falling off him from wear and tear.  
With the carefully tested technology of the minion uniforms at his disposal, Plague Knight crafted a perfect, hazard-proof chemical cloak for himself. The material was midnight blue, and bound at the hips by a pale green sash. It was here that he could stow his powders and potions when he needed them at a moment’s notice. A pair of hardy orange stockings and thick blue boots joined the ensemble, as well as a pair of pauldrons and poleyns. These were partially to provide extra protection… and partially to halfway justify his title. He knew he’d never be properly knighted, but he might as well look the part, a little. Even if capital K Knights didn’t require a suit of armour.  
Lastly, there was the mask. He’d been wearing his old one for nigh-on five years now, and it had existed for far longer. It was ratty, and dirty, and the lenses were cracked. Stitching was coming out, and the cloth was getting threadbare in places. This would not do. Nobody was to see his face. Not his minions, not Mona, not anyone.  
His new mask was built from a polymer of his own design. This one didn’t cover his whole head; rather, it was easily and firmly held in place by a thick band of elastic. The back of his head would always be covered by his under-cowl and hood anyway, keeping his entire skull obscured. The lenses of the mask were treated with light-bending chemicals so as to protect from flash-bang blinding, and the set of ‘nostrils’ had been designed to filter the worst of any powder that beset them. The whole thing was smooth and pale-green, nearly matching the tone of his sickly skin. Plague Knight chuckled, turning his head this way and that in a mirror, admiring the effect. 

“Hee! Not bad, not bad at all!” he told himself, “The illusion persists! Now… back to work!”

 

Quite possibly the most difficult part of the renovations was putting in the plumbing. Not all buildings had it, but Plague Knight was adamant that this particular creature-comfort be installed. A good circulation of clean water and removal of waste would promote a more hygienic environment, and it would be rather convenient in general, especially for such a large facility.  
As luck would have it, the keep already seemed to have a sort of sewer system. The only trouble was modifying it to do its new, dirty job. Pipes and pumps were steadily installed, but work was slow due to undead attacks and a rather annoying tendency for minions to slip in the free water flow and get carried away.  
Last, but not least, there was the difficulty of purifying the ground water into something drinkable, especially in a place so infested by the necrotically inclined.  
This, however, was the least of Plague Knight’s worries.

“Gather round,” he called in his reedy, high pitched voice, as several minions trooped into one of the makeshift labs. He did his best to ignore the sound of construction from outside and chalked a circle onto the desk in front of him, “Today we are going to be manufacturing a tricky little concoction that will be able to detonate underwater…”

The minions looked at each other curiously.

“Our main, active ingredient is pure Salt,” said Plague Knight, carefully depositing several sacks of pure white powder on the table, “I have taken it upon myself to prepare the Salt so that it is, in fact, pure, heehee…”

‘Because letting any of you do it would probably get several of you killed,’ he thought, ruefully. 

“This lesson will take place in two parts,” he continued, aloud, “The first will be fusing the Salt into water-soluble containers. The second will involve creating the secondary charge that the first component will detonate, which we’ll have a little chat about later, hee!”

Plague Knight pointed imperiously to the other makeshift tables set up around the room, “To your stations! Two to a table! NOW! HEE HEE!”

The minions quickly got to work as Plague Knight began directing them, slowly and carefully explaining the process step by step. Despite their general stupidity, the minions gradually followed his instructions, and each of their alchemical circles lit up as they produced package after package of Pure Salt. 

“…and now I would like to remind you all of my previous talk on miasmic spores. You remember that one, yes? The one I had to have after I caught number twenty-three eating off the floor?”

Number twenty-three winced, and the other minions nodded uncomfortably.

“Please remember the weaknesses of said spores when I demonstrate the effects of this construct. Now, onto phase two of the lesson! You’d all better remember this, because I’m turning you loose to the labs to make more, after, heehee!”

Phase two went along as slowly as phase one had, with Plague Knight haltingly and laboriously explaining how to combine the necessary ingredients into a viscous magenta liquid. Once again, the minions clumsily followed his orders, doing their best to produce the desired effects inside their circles. Each one seemed to be concentrating extra hard, trying to remember every step perfectly. They knew what would happen if they messed up.  
When Plague Knight was finally satisfied with their work, he withdrew a flask from his cloak and held it aloft.

“Here is a finished sample of our little concoction,” he called eagerly, swirling it gently in the air, “Number thirty-two, bring me that barrel of water, hee!”

Number thirty-two obliged, lugging a barrel from the back of the room to Plague Knight, and setting it down with a heavy slosh. Plague Knight waved the minion away, then directed the group to watch carefully. Plague Knight uncorked the flask, then let it drop into the barrel.  
For a moment, nothing happened. But as the flask submerged and water flooded its body, a sudden explosion sent magenta flames and broken glass spouting from the mouth of the barrel, startling the minions. Plague Knight cackled maniacally, appreciating how pretty the columns of fire looked against the dingy light of the makeshift classroom. 

“HEEHEE! BOOM!” he hollered, before collecting himself and continuing, “…There! You see, once distilled properly, this particular solution’s makeup will bypass the usual quenching effects of water, sending flames erupting in every direction! Haha! The purpose of which, is..?”

He waited expectantly for an answer. As usual, the minions seemed rather hesitant to speak. One of their number finally put up their hand, shyly.

“…Erm… To… Make the water… On fire?”

Plague Knight snickered, running a hand down the long, greenish beak of his mask.

“Yes, to make the water on fire. NO, you ninny! That’s only part of it!! The brew will destroy any spores or detritus that enter the water supply, purifying it! Clean water is KEY to good health! So we’ll be needing a near endless batch, to be distributed constantly!! Sure, the water might taste a little funny… and become a slight hazard… But it’s better than dying of dysentery, isn’t it? Heehee!!”

The assembled minions nodded, nervously. All of the sudden, the door banged open as the mail minion barged through their ranks, surprising several and causing at least one minor explosion.

“HEY! No bombs in the lab!!” squawked Plague Knight, indignantly.

“Master! Maaasteeer! Hello!”

Place Knight glanced at his approaching visitor, then looked back at his charges.

“Lesson’s over. Get brewing!!”

The class left, quickly. Plague Knight turned back to the excitable man before him.

“Ah. Mail Minion. Has something come in?”

“Yes, Master!! A letter and a package from the Village!”

Plague Knight perked up, “The Village? Give it here!”

He snatched the offered items from the Mail Minion’s hands and tore greedily into the letter, first. At last, further correspondence from his dear partner!  
   
“Dear Plague Knight.

How’s work on the Explodatorium? You’ve been up there for almost a year and I’m getting impatient. I know you want it to be impressive and all that, but I really don’t care what state it’s in. I just want to get a look! Let me visit, already!

Things in the village are pretty boring. I’ve managed to rent a permanent room here. It’s attached to the bar in the main tavern, and I’ve been doing steady business to beef up our waning funds. It’s alright, money-wise, but they still keep mistaking my alchemy for magic… They all think I’m a sorceress, or something. Sigh. Oh well. The next batch of hopefuls will get it once they meet up with you. Speaking of magic, I’ve been studying! …Which might be giving the false impression, actually.

I’ve picked up a couple of books from the nearest library. Which is… not near at all. Unfortunately none of them seem to be much help. I’ve been reading up for ages but I’m still just barely mastering conjuring. I don’t know. Maybe magic just isn’t my thing? Or maybe my magic is a type that isn’t covered in these books..? Guess I’ll go on the hunt again.

There is good news though. Even if I can’t perform many spells, I have managed to perfect my very first AlcheMagical creation! We both know what happens when Alchemy and Magic encounter one another, but ever since you told me it was possible to combine the two, I’ve been adamant to get it to work! I’ve been working on distilling little bits of my own magic into something tangible, and the results are actually pretty interesting… Just check the little present I sent you. It’s one-hundred percent imbued with my own personal magical power, and not at all unstable! Try it for yourself… it’s all yours. Thought it might be a little unfair if I learned magic without you. Study up, Plaguey!

Bombs away!

Mona.

P.S. There’s a textbook enclosed. Happy reading!”  
   
Plague Knight clutched the letter to his chest and bobbed, joyously. He always loved receiving letters from Mona, and he especially loved hearing about her progress on her various experiments. The fact that she’d already managed to create an object imbued with both magic and alchemy was staggering, and she clearly knew the magnitude of what she’d done. He noted that she’d used that little pet name she’d picked up for him… ‘Plaguey’… it seemed to be something she only employed when well and truly ecstatic, like with their success at Pridemoor Keep. 

He sighed and gently let go of the letter. He missed her so. But he was even more excited about the bulky package that had yet to be unwrapped.  
Placing it down on the table and tearing it open, Plague Knight retrieved two items. The first was a handsome red volume entitled Secrets of Arcana, who’s redundant title made him snicker. The second was…  
A long, thin walking stick. The staff portion was handsomely crafted, and seemed to be able to telescope with the push of a discretely placed button. There was a nice, comfortable grip at the top for holding, and the head of the stick was pleasingly weighted and shaped like a little black bird, with green eyes and an orange beak.  
‘Is that me..?’ he thought, peering at it, curiously. Its appearance certainly did match his new attire, in a way, though he was unsure how Mona could have known about it. Serendipity, perhaps.

He held the stick almost reverently in his hands, before clutching it, jealously. It was warm, almost beating… Filled with Mona’s magic. Mona’s very essence… It was normal for him to miss Mona’s presence when reading her letters, but having a piece of her in his hands made him wish all the more that she was really there beside him. It was an odd feeling, to be sure; he’d never really had any friends to speak of, and didn’t work well with others. Mona was an anomaly, an outlier… a freak, just like him. And holding this beautiful stick in his hands made him realize just how deeply her absence was felt. For the first time in his life, he was pining for someone. 

Well, no longer. He hadn’t wanted Mona to come to the fort because of the mess and the disasters and the general stress, but he simply couldn’t wait any longer to see her. Besides, she seemed to feel similarly, if her letter was anything to go by. So Plague Knight decided to give in to his silly emotions. He tucked his precious new staff gently into his belt and picked up his new book. Then he made his way confidently to the main corridor, followed closely by his loyal courier. 

“MINIONS!” he shouted, gaily, “Pick up the pace! We’ve got a –heehee!– bewitching visitor coming soon, and I want this place spotless when she arrives!”

There was a chorus of “Yes, Boss!”es from the construction team, who began to work even faster.

Plague Knight took a deep breath and gazed fondly out over the half-finished expanse. It would be just like old times, again, he thought. Mona might even know a thing or two about getting these addle-brained fools to be competent, for once.  
With a spring in his step, Plague Knight made for the nearest available stack of papers, then sent the excitable mail minion off with his invitation. The sun was setting just outside the Explodatorium. Plague Knight stared at the clouds thoughtfully, before smirking and scuttling away.

He had much to prepare before Mona arrived– and with the help of the catapults, that could be very soon indeed. 

\- - - 

Several hours later, a minion shuffled timidly into Plague Knight’s personal lab.

“Boss! U-uh, your guest has arrived! She’s at the front entrance.”

“Hee! Splendid! I’ll just go down and meet her…”

His personal lab was currently the cleanest and most well-set up of the various renovated areas, located in the northeast turret. Plague Knight practically sprinted across the length of the Explodatorium to get to the entrance in good time. When he arrived, a tall figure in a dark robe was standing just inside the main hall, accompanied by a rather gormless minion. The figure looked up at Plague Knight’s approach, then smirked.

“Plague Knight!”

“Mona! Long time no see, heheh… Welcome to the Explodatorium!”

Mona swept forwards, gazing around the dingy, half-finished halls with an appreciative glint in her eyes. She looked much the same as she had when she’d left to work in The Village, but a few little things had changed. Her hair, which had been cropped quite short since she’d lopped off her braid at the Academy, had grown out to hang pleasantly around her face. It seemed she’d also decided, like Plague Knight, to discard her old clothing. 

“Nice duds,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the walls and leaning over to give one of his flowing sleeves a little flick, “Very snazzy.”

“Likewise!” 

“You think? I made it myself,” replied Mona, smugly, giving a little twirl. It was a fairly simple, plum-coloured gown made of shiny material. Mona’s blue jewel amulet was fastened to the neckline, glinting slightly in the dim lights. She was clearly proud that she’d manage to create her own garment, by herself, but her pride suddenly turned to embarrassment and she quickly straightened up, “I-I mean… You know. Just putting what I learned into practice… And I needed a change of clothes, anyway.” 

“Of course, of course, heehee! Now… What do you say to a little tour..?”

 

Plague Knight lead Mona through the halls, showing off the progress the fort had undergone in her absence. Plague Knight had been there to oversee the whole thing, but Mona’s presence suddenly made him realize how much had actually been accomplished over the past near-year. The dirt enveloping the place had been cleared out, holes in the ceilings and floors had been fixed, junk had been disposed of or repurposed, and the layout was really coming along. Everything was calculated to raise Plague Knight’s spirits to a fever pitch. He was practically skipping down the corridors as he pointed this way and that, directing Mona’s eyes. She seemed to notice his jubilance, as he caught her smirking at him more than once. 

The last stop on the tour was his makeshift personal lab in the northeast turret. He lead Mona up the rickety ladder and pushed open the trapdoor that lead in. The room was round, and a little draughty from the windows set into the stone walls. Tables full of alchemical equipment were arranged in a ring around a large circle that sat at the centre of the floor.  
Mona ascended after Plague Knight, poking her head through the trapdoor, then climbing out of it and gazing around.

“Heh… Almost feels like I’m back at the Academy,” she murmured.

“Oh, Mona! Don’t compare my lab to that awful place!” cried Plague Knight indignantly. 

Mona shrugged and chuckled softly, walking across the room to inspect the setup more closely.

“You’ve been busy,” she commented, glancing over the various vials and bottles spread out over the desks, “What are these?”

“Just demonstrations for the minions. But this table, heehee, you might find a little more interesting!”

He beckoned her over to a table near the trap door, which had several heaps of powder laid out on in. Mona wafted over and examined them, curiously. 

“What is all this?” she asked, “I’m not quite clever enough to tell a bunch of identical powders apart, you know…” 

Plague Knight chuckled and scooped each powder into a little crucible. Then, lighting a match, he set each of the powders aflame. Spouts of orange, red, yellow and blue flames erupted from each container. Mona blinked in surprise.

“Ringing any bells?” cooed Plague Knight, with anticipatory glee.

“Uhh… It’s very pretty,” Mona replied uncertainly, “But…”

“Heh, it was a while ago. But I seem to recall somebody wanting to build a bomb that would detonate with the colours of a sunset…”

Mona inhaled, sharply, and Plague Knight knew she’d remembered. She turned to look at him, eyes glittering with reflected light.

“You… We’re..?”

One of her huge, terrifying rictus grins crept across her face, and Plague Knight mimicked her, even if she couldn’t see.

“What are we waiting for, heehee?” he cried, dancing across the room to retrieve additional supplies, “It’s about time we had a little fun after all this work, eh?!”

“Couldn’t agree more, partner!” sang Mona, sweeping gracefully after him. 

 

Performing alchemy together again was like travelling back in time. For a moment, all their new worries and responsibilities melted away, and they were back at the Academy, out after hours, experimenting in secret. They happily bounced ideas off each other, slowly deciphering the perfect recipe for, what Mona had affectionately dubbed, the ‘Dusk Bomb’. 

“You want the burst to be thick and cloudy, right?” asked Plague Knight.

“Yeah… We should be able to get a nice effect if we mix some Sal Petrae with the right ingredient…”

“Heh! Exactly my thoughts! But what is the missing ingredient?”

“Guess we’ll just have to experiment to find out..!”

The room was quickly filled with thick smoke and various little explosions. Plague Knight loaned Mona one of the minion masks to shield her face, and she looked rather silly with the bright pink beak strapped to her head.  
As they worked, the pair caught each other up on the various details of their lives that they’d missed during their letters to one another. Mona spoke of the strange and annoying inhabitants of The Village, while Plague Knight complained about further incompetence from his minions. It was so nice to be able to vent to her, and he was glad to share in the disdainful judgement of the people she didn’t like. She was always so easy to talk to… after all, they were two peas in a pod regarding their feelings on the general population.

After much contented grousing and a healthy dose of trial and error, the two alchemists managed to concoct a compound that created a satisfying, puffy cloud when detonated. It hovered in the air for a few moments, pleasantly thick and roiling, before slowly dissipating. All that was left was to add the pigments. 

 

“…Alright, that should do it!”

The sky outside was a murky navy by the time Plague Knight and Mona were finished. They were both exceedingly dusty, and rather out of breath, but they’d dispelled most of the smoke still hanging in the turret room and were ready to test their final product. Mona had taken off her mask and put it aside, no longer in need of its protection. 

“Hee! Would you like to do the honours?” asked Plague Knight, offering the finished small, round explosive to his dear partner. 

Mona grinned and took it. Without a word, she twisted the wick, wound up, then tossed the bomb out the window. It detonated in midair, momentarily lighting up with a brilliant flash. For a moment, time itself was rent apart as a multicoloured dusk-cloud burst into existence in the early morning darkness.  
Plague Knight admired the melange of colours; they really had turned out quite well. Each one started fairly separate at first, before fading into each other as the effect persisted. Sure, it didn’t have much combat application aside from being a distraction, but it really was quite pretty. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to gauge Mona’s reaction, only to find she wasn’t even looking at the explosion.  
Instead, she was staring at him. There was a funny look in her eyes; one he couldn’t quite figure out. It was sort of… soft. Immeasurably soft, more so than he’d ever seen her look before. It was also slightly bewildered, as if she was trying to puzzle something out, and… perhaps, even a little fond? Whatever this expression was, it was quite novel. Plague Knight turned to her, about to comment on it, teasingly, but as he did so, Mona took notice and flinched, turning away.  
From what he could see of her face past her hair, she was turning a very dark shade of sky blue. 

“…Um, well,” she said, suddenly, in a rather clipped tone, “That… That was really great. I had a lot of fun.”

Plague Knight blinked and shook his head slightly. Had he been imagining things just now? Her entire demeanour had changed; she was back to being her usual gloomy self. 

“Heh, well. I thought a little something special was warranted. A sort of celebration of all our accomplishments, heehee!”

“Yeah…”

A very faint light was leaking in through the windows, now. Since they were to the east, Plague Knight could just see the sun peeking up over the horizon in the distance. 

“Hee, look at that! We experimented through the night!”

“Oh… wow. We did. Guess time flies when you’re making bombs,” said Mona, running a hand through her disheveled hair.

There was a small silence. Plague Knight worried that something had gone wrong. Had she not been enjoying herself as much as he’d thought? She seemed happy enough while they were working. Perhaps she wasn’t satisfied with the end result? But just as he was beginning to seriously worry that his surprise had been a dud, Mona let out a long, loud yawn.

“Sorry… I’m exhausted. Haven’t slept right in a while. Thanks for… all this,” she waved around at the dusty lab, “It um… It was really sweet of you to remember…”

“Sweet?”

Mona flinched again and scowled, covering her mouth with her fist, “I-it… I…”

“Are you alright, Mona..?”

“I’m fine!” she snapped, sharply, before composing herself a little and reiterating her words in a gentler tone, “I’m… fine. Just tired.”

“Then I believe it is time for rest!” cried Plague Knight, bustling over to one of the nearby tables, “Here, why don’t you take my cot? It’s comfortable. I’ll just go…”

He trailed off. Plague Knight usually slept -when he did sleep- in a little portable cot that he stowed under one of his tables. He’d rolled it out and begun smoothing the twisted up patchwork-quilt over it, only to realize there was a problem. A big problem. Or rather, a small one.  
They both stared at the tiny little rolling cot for some time before Mona began shaking with suppressed laughter.

“I… I can’t fit on that, Plaguey,” she gasped, wheezing with giggles. 

“I-I KNOW!!” squawked Plague Knight, fervently glad that his mask prevented her from seeing his face flush red, “I was just..! Ahem! W-w-w-why don’t I go find you some b-better fitting accommodations, hee? Heeheehee…” 

Mona continued to writhe with mirth, and Plague Knight tried not to shrivel up in embarrassment. He was rather sensitive about his diminutive stature, and his little slip up wasn’t even that funny… her lack of sleep must be getting to her.  
Plague Knight wasn’t sure why he was reacting so intensely; it wasn’t like him to get flustered by someone laughing at him. His usual response was to laugh right back at them and fling a couple of insults -or bombs- their way. Yet, there was something about it being Mona who was laughing that sent him into a tizzy.  
When Mona’s giggle-fit refused to peter out, Plague Knight finally gave her a sharp smack on the hip.

“Oh, stop, already!” he whined.

Mona wheezed even harder, apparently further tickled by his weak attempt to quiet her. 

“I’m s– I’m sorry–“ she choked, “It’s just been a l– long time since I’ve had anything to really l– laugh about…”

When Mona’s mirth finally subsided, she slid down the wall and hugged herself, wincing. 

“Ahh… Ugh… My ribs…” she groaned, breathlessly.

“Hmph! Serves you right,” sniffed Plague Knight, his face still rather pink. 

Mona caught her breath slowly, leaning her head back against the wall and staring blankly out one of the windows as the sun rose further into the sky. Eventually, she rose unsteadily to her feet and brushed down her gown.

“It’s okay,” she said, at length, “I’ll just sleep on the floor, or something. You don’t have to worry.” 

“Erm… well. You should at least have some blankets. A pillow or two, heh…”

Mona watched him silently as he made his offer, her eyes flickering with an echo of that funny look she’d had before.

“…How chivalrous of you. Even after all that..? …You certainly are trying to live up to your title…”

Plague Knight cocked his head, curiously. Mona shook hers and looked away.

“Never mind. Just… lead the way.”

Plague Knight nodded, then gathered up his bedclothes. After tucking them under his arm securely, he opened the trap door and lead Mona back down into the halls of the Explodatorium. He managed to find her a smaller renovated room without windows, and instructed a pair of minions to keep guard outside.

“Nobody is to disturb this room! Our guest needs her rest, hee!” he instructed, sharply.

The minions saluted, and Plague Knight gently made up a little resting place for Mona out of his quilt, pillow, and a few sacks of powder. 

Mona stood aside, watching him silently. When he was finished, she walked over and sat down.

“Well… heh, sweet dreams,” he said, uncertainly, taking a few steps towards the exit. It was back to work for him.

He had almost reached the door when Mona called out.

“Hey– Plague Knight?”

“Yes..?”

Mona’s silence was so long that Plague Knight began to feel as if it had taken on mass and was slowly crushing him into the floor. 

“…Thanks.”

“Heh. You’re welcome…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we're finally caught up with the epilogue of PO! Hope everyone's having a good time :) And thanks for the comments and kudos, it always means a lot! --TS  
> -Fun fact; flowers of antimony is an actual real thing. It's known today as Antimony Trioxide and it's used for the production of certain ceramics and plastics. Neat! It's also a very pretty title for a song.


	6. The Science Wizard

With the approach of morning came the changing of the shifts. Groups of exhausted minions trooped off to their makeshift bedchambers, while others trundled in to take their place. Plague Knight hopped back to his lab, quaffed a few vitamins supplements and dug into his stacks of diagrams and blueprints. Today’s task was part of an ongoing experiment with something he’d been interested in for a while.   
While the Explodatorium was coming along in terms of renovations, there was one problem that neither he nor the minions seemed to be able to fix, and that was the vermin.

Rats infested every inch of the place, scurrying boldly along underfoot and crawling into the masonry, squeaking and chirping and scratching. Some unlucky pests were snatched up by the resident flock of spectral birds, but they could gorge themselves silly and still not make a dent in the population. Even the frequent explosions and chemical leaks failed to exterminate them. So Plague Knight had decided to turn the problem around.  
Why get rid of such hardy creatures when he could harness them? He hadn’t had much time to dabble in biology, but it was always good to get back to his roots.  
Over the course of several weeks, he’d gathered as many test subjects as possible, locking them up in cages and feeding them scraps. Biological alchemical transformations took longer to perfect… The living flesh could not be sculpted as simple metals could. Transmutation potions were difficult to create on their own, but changes of a more permanent nature took even more patience and care.   
Plague Knight had been steadily dosing the little creatures with a special concoction he’d developed. Over time, their tawny brown fur had changed to a poisonous shade of green, signifying that at least some part of them had been successfully altered. A few days ago, a series of explosions from the room had confirmed Plague Knight’s hypothesis; his little serum was doing exactly what it was supposed to. Today, he would be formally testing the results.

Plague Knight gathered a few minions, then headed to the chamber where the rats were kept. It was a large, slightly leaky room piled high with cages. The sounds of scuffling and squeaking echoed eerily throughout it as Plague Knight and his team entered. Several green rats stood up on their hind legs as he approached. They knew his presence meant food. 

“Hello, hello!” called Plague Knight, cheerily, “My little monsters, heehee! Today is the big day! Are you all ready to do me proud..?”

Plague Knight instructed the minions to bring him one of the cages. About five rats were sitting inside. It wasn’t a spacious prison by any means, but Plague Knight had made sure not to cram too many into one container. He wanted the rats to be healthy, after all. Having his test subjects dying from overcrowding and lack of hygiene wouldn’t be helpful at all.   
Plague Knight opened the cage and reached in, scooping out one of the squeaking vermin inside and closing the door promptly behind it. 

They were large rats, and quite strong too. This one put up quite the fight against Plague Knight, but he clung on valiantly and walked into the centre of the room. 

“Stop squirming,” he giggled, maniacally, “I’ll let you go soon enough, heehee!”

He drew back his hand, still barely clutching the struggling rodent, then chucked it as hard as he could across the room. The rat flew through the air with a squeak, then hit the ground. The moment it did so, there was a loud POP as the creature was engulfed in a cloud of smoke. A second later, the rat scuttled away from the point of detonation, seemingly unharmed. Plague Knight contorted with glee. It had worked! It had really worked! The rat’s fur now contained an explosive charge; any time the creature was sufficiently bumped or smacked, the charge would go off, harming anyone foolish enough to mess with them.

Sure, it sounded insane to give a difficult pest an added layer of protection, but these little explosive rats… What would Mona call them? Explodarats? Ratsploders?… These rats would provide an added layer of protection against invasion. The undead were still crawling up out of the depths, especially at sewer level, preying upon minions and generally being disruptive. With the explosive rodents now scuttling throughout the halls, the fleshless horrors might think twice about trying anything. 

Plague Knight instructed the minions to test each rat and then recapture it while he attended to further business. They seemed a little reluctant, but complied nonetheless. 

“And be careful of bites!” called Plague Knight as he left, “You’re all wearing your gloves, of course, but rats have very powerful jaws! And their saliva most likely contains harmful chemicals now, heeheehee!”

 

With the rat situated checked on, Plague Knight began his usual rounds of the Explodatorium, making sure all the various goings-on were coming along smoothly.   
Renovations seemed to be well underway, and Plague Knight personally oversaw the placement of several stone gargoyles in the shape of monstrous ravens. The minions carefully used rope and pulleys to set them atop the columns holding up the vaulted ceilings. The cavernous interior echoed with the sounds of scraping, thudding and grunting as they worked. The Explodatorium was really beginning to take on a feeling of mystique and foreboding as its layout took shape; when it was finally finished, it would be a fearsome lair indeed.  
Plague Knight rubbed his hands gleefully as he moved on to the group working on the piping, cackling in delight. Plague Knight had been a bit of an insular child, but as he’d grown he’d learned to appreciate spectacle and drama. He craved the spotlight and its shining golden halo; after all, the shadow one cast under its glare was always so much larger than the caster could ever be. Now that he had the funds to do so, he was thoroughly enjoying taking on all the trappings of a real, ingenious alchemist.   
The piping was also coming along swimmingly, so the next order of business was to head to the labs to check on the minions. One group was still working on purification potions for the water supply, another was synthesizing more explosive rat formula, yet another was brewing up a new stock of health potions, and the last was working on the actual commissions that came in from the townsfolk.   
Two out of four groups were most likely going to experience at least three disasters before the day was out, so Plague Knight decided to check in with them first. He headed presently to the purification group, deciding theirs was probably the most dangerous of the lot.

When he arrived, he was heartened to see that everything actually seemed to be in good order. The minions were carefully working on packaging little parcels of Pure Salt, whilst others were brewing up the magenta-coloured outer layer of the potion. 

“Greetings, boss!” chorused at least six of them, as he entered, “We’re following your instructions, just like you asked!”

“Yes, yes, well done,” Plague Knight replied, scanning the room for any signs of impending doom.

As far as he could see, there really wasn’t anything to be worried about. He was rather impressed. Despite their usual bumbling, the minions -or at least, this batch of them- were really coming together to form a halfway decent assembly line. Perhaps he should think about showing his appreciation somehow..? That’s how one treated one’s employees, right? He supposed it was like training an animal; if they did something good, you gave them a treat. Eventually, the steady application of encouragement would teach them to produce consistent, pleasing results. Plague Knight had never really thought about trying to train people in this manner, but it was worth a shot. He’d have to think on it.

He didn’t have much time to do so, however, as he was shaken out of his musings a moment later by a loud BANG from down the corridor.

“Oh BLAST,” he snapped, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another, heehee!”

He turned back to the group, hastily.

“Well done, you all! Keep up the good work!” he cried, before scuttling off towards the sound of mayhem.

To Plague Knight’s shock, the explosion had come from the lab devoted to producing healing draughts. When he entered, the room was full of hazy smoke and loud arguing.

“What the HELL was that?!”

“Progress, duh!”

“H-hey– E-eleven isn’t getting up!”

“W-what do you mean, progress? You just blew up a cauldron! T-the boss is gonna be so mad!!”

“G-guys?”

“You’ve got it totally backwards; he’s gonna be thrilled! I’m inventing a new kind of explosive! When he sees, he’s gonna––“

“I’m gonna… What, exactly?”

The smoke was dissipating, now, and figures were coming into view. Plague Knight saw a small cluster of them at the centre of the haze flinch as he spoke. There were about five of them, all standing near a ruined cauldron. Two were flanking a third, who’s chest was puffed out. Another minion was kneeling on the floor next to a fifth, who was laying very still. The rest of the minions had run for cover, and were all pressed up against the walls, shaking. 

Plague Knight strode forwards. The puffed-up minion scampered towards him, excitedly.

“Boss! Boss!” he cried, “You’re just in time! I’ve got something great to show you! You won’t believe what I just discovered!”

“Heehee! Go on,” said Plague Knight, keeping his voice as even as possible.

“See, I’ve been trying to invent a new kind of explosive,” said the minion, eagerly, “And I really think I’ve made some progress! I’ve been sneaking out and studying from those books you’ve been importing in from away, and I’ve been––“

“What number are you?”

The minion faltered.

“H-huh?”

“What number are you?” repeated Plague Knight, crisply. 

“Uh… Twenty-two, Boss!”

“Heehee! Nope, wrong! You’re number one!”

The minion stared in shock.

“R…really?”

“Yes! Resident number one of the Explodatorium dungeons, heeheehaha!”

There was another pause.

“W…what?!”

Plague Knight couldn’t hold back anymore. He threw his head back and laughed, sending wild echoes bounding off the cavernous walls. 

“You really thought–– You actually, really thought, that blowing up the health station would impress me?!” howled Plague Knight, his laughter turning very harsh indeed, “You FOOL.”

He was already striding briskly towards the fallen minion and their attendant. He knelt by their side and quickly removed their mask. Gently brushing aside the man’s hair showed Plague Knight a rapidly swelling lump on the scalp. Blessedly, the minion seemed to be just coming awake. As soon as Plague Knight gently moved him onto his side, he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Plague Knight winced. He quickly went about assessing the severity of the head injury, as well as keeping the man’s breathing passage clear. Luckily, it seemed he did’t have much to worry about. The minion seemed to have been stunned rather than unconscious, and he quickly responded to a few reflex tests properly.   
When he was satisfied, Plague Knight instructed the man’s attendant to get him to his feet and have him swallow the contents of one of their own health potions.

“Apply a cold compress to the bump and report back if his condition changes,” Plague Knight instructed, before turning back to minion Twenty-two, who was quaking in his boots.

“Twenty-two. I am an alchemist,” said Plague Knight, “I appreciate the pursuit of knowledge in all forms. What I do not appreciate, however, is the blatant disregard for lab safety by someone with the basest amount of clearance!”

Without even thinking about it, he removed the staff he’d so recently been gifted from his belt and struck it hard upon the floor. A small spark of energy snapped where the staff’s base hit, accompanied by a loud CRACK. Twenty-two flinched.

“B-but Boss– I– I was doing it for science! Isn’t that why we’re all here? Y-you said you’d teach us all alchemy!”

“What do you think I’ve been doing, hee?! You’ve just been refusing to learn it!”

“I don’t want to make health potions,” twenty-two complained, clenching his fists, “I want to make explosions! What you did back at the Lich Yard, that was––“

“That was the work of a trained professional with years of experience,” Plague Knight interrupted him, “And most certainly the work of someone with enough self-restraint not to build bombs in the middle of a HEALTH STATION.”

“But––“

“NO BUTS!” Plague Knight poked his beak right up in twenty-two’s face, seething, “All you’ve shown me is that you are irresponsible and dangerous to your fellow alchemists! You destroyed my property, injured one of your coworkers, initiated a hazardous experiment without supervision or safety precautions, and now you’re DISRESPECTING MY AUTHORITY!”

“YOU’RE A FRAUD!” twenty-two shot back, “YOU–– YOU––“

The minion was suddenly struck dumb by something unseen. Plague Knight felt a surge of heat behind him, and something large bump lightly into his back. 

“Damn it… Too close again. Sorry Plague Knight, I…”

Plague Knight whipped around to see Mona standing behind him, looking a little off-balance. She’d clearly just teleported in. She looked around the room, blinking slowly at the general chaos and frightened minions. 

“…Whoa. What happened here?”

“This idiot happened,” Plague Knight grumbled, thumbing at the minion behind him, “Decided he’d try a little unauthorized exothermic exercise amongst the health potions…” 

“Oh really?” Mona raised an eyebrow, “Guess he missed the lab safety briefing.”

“Heehee! I don’t think he did!”

Plague Knight turned back to Twenty-two and beckoned a pair of minions forwards.

“Throw him in the dungeon,” Plague Knight instructed, “I’m too busy to deal with him now. He’ll have plenty of time down there to think about what he’s done wrong… And imagine what I’m going to do to him when I come back! Heeheehee!”

Twenty-two was dragged kicking and screaming from the chamber, as the rest of the minions watched fearfully. Plague Knight smoothed down his robes and tucked his staff back into his belt.

“Hee! Well, there you have it! That’s what awaits anyone foolish enough to ignore the very important rules that I’ve laid down to keep you ninnies safe! Now… back to work!”

The minions crept away from the walls and resumed their jobs. Several quickly rushed to the ruined cauldron and began cleaning it up. Plague Knight stalked out into the hallway and leaned against the wall, drumming his fingers frustratedly on either side of his mask. Mona followed him, languidly.

“This probably wasn’t what you were looking for when you said you wanted some like-minded people on the team, huh?”

Plague Knight groaned, “What kind of moron tries to build a bomb at a health station? While he’s supposed to be brewing health potions?!”

“A rare and miraculous kind you just happened to be lucky enough to recruit,” said Mona, smirking.

“You recruited him, actually,” Plague Knight shot back, teasingly. Mona’s smirk widened.

“Hmm. You know, now that I think about it, it’s a little rich of you to get on his case about blowing stuff up. You’re kind of… the baron of blowing stuff up, you know.”

Plague Knight folded his arms and stuck his beak in the air.

“Only the baron? Who’s better? …But listen. I’m a bandit and an alchemist, Mona,” he said, “There’s a certain amount of overlap between the two, yes, but the blowing-stuff-up-like-a-madman part is strictly bandit. The actual construction of the bombs was always, and is still always done with the utmost attention to detail. Sure, I might have exploded once or twice…”

He trailed off, “…or forty-eight times in one day, once, but the point is, I always made sure to follow safety guidelines and regulations so that I wouldn’t explode forty-nine times! And I certainly didn’t do it in the middle of the hospit…”

He broke off, quickly, and swallowed. Mona knew a little bit about his medical background, but he’d like to keep it at ‘a little’. That was a chapter of his life that was closed, now; he didn’t want her reading into it. Luckily, she seemed to catch on to his discomfort, and she simply chuckled.

“Alright, alright. I get the picture. …But you do like blowing things up.”

“Heh. Well. …When it doesn’t cost me.”

There was a small silence, before Mona pushed off from the wall they were leaning against and folded her arms.

“Um, so. I was thinking…” she began, hesitantly, “Since I woke up… Well, since last… Okay, since I made you that staff. I was thinking… maybe, we could practice some magic together.”

Plague Knight tilted his head curiously. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah… well. I mean, it might be fun. And it’ll take your mind off the uh… recent disaster.”

Plague Knight nodded, slowly, “Hee, yes! That sounds rather fun! I haven’t had a chance to crack open -heehee- ‘Secrets of Arcana’, yet. But I have a few more rounds to make… Why don’t you go find something to eat, and I’ll meet you in the main hall in… an hour..?”

Mona cracked a not-smile and nodded.

“Alright.”

“Just ask a minion for directions,” he said, as he began to move down the corridor, “Uhh… But maybe not one from the medical department, heehee. They’ve got their hands full…”

\- - -

An hour later, Plague Knight bustled down to the main hall to find Mona waiting for him. She was leaning against one of the pillars and finishing the last of something that she’d been eating. She looked up at his approach and waved. Plague Knight waved back cheerily, appreciating that he could now greet her personally, rather than having to write to her. It was good to have her back… and good to be able to experiment with her once again. Even if they were going to be doing magic -something he’d never tried before- he was confident that the process would be the same. 

“Right,” said Mona, pushing off the pillar and coming to stand in front of him, “You don’t have any alchemical constructs on you, do you?”

“No,” said Plague Knight, “I’ve been drinking vitamin supplements, though. But I don’t think the usual alchemy versus magic problem will work on something I’m already digesting.”

“Well, let’s hope not,” said Mona, ruefully, “If you explode from the inside out, I’m going to be… hmm.”

She seemed to be struggling with something again.

“Really, the danger only comes into play when you try to use alchemy on magic, not the other way around, usually” Plague Knight said, helpfully. 

Mona smoothed down her gown, busily, frowning, “Did you bring your textbook?”

“Got it right here, heehee!”

Plague Knight held up Secrets of Arcana. Mona nodded.

“Okay! Just put that down, for now. You’re going to want to learn the basics of controlling the staff.”

Plague Knight put his textbook aside and slid his staff out of his belt. He held it comfortably by the grip.

“I don’t have to wave it around like a wand, do I?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Mona, “I designed the whole staff to be a release area, apart from where you hold it. You know, for safety reasons.”

Plague Knight nodded, thoughtfully. This little wooden marvel was more complicated than he’d first thought.

“I couldn’t really test it out, since my magic kept overriding it,” she explained, “But basically, wherever you point with it, the magic should come from there. I mean, if you’re going to be directional about it.”

Plague Knight nodded again and swung the staff sharply through the air, pointing down the length of the hall. Nothing happened, apart from a slight crackle of energy at the tip. He flipped it around in his hand and jabbed the other end down the hall, producing the same effect. It was a little like playing with a live-wire. After a few more swings, he deftly spun the staff around and around in his fingers, creating a soft whirring sound, accompanied by a low crackle as the staff let off a constant discharge.  
He turned to Mona and grinned behind his mask, showing off. Mona was smirking.

“Alright, fancy pants,” said Mona, trying not to snicker, “That’s handling the staff done, I guess.”

Plague Knight tossed it into the air like a baton and caught it, “Easy! Heehee! What’s next?”

“We just need to make sure you can call on the magic when you need it. Can you feel it, in there?”

Plague Knight felt the warm current of energy flowing just under his fingers. It was a tiny little slice of the same heat Mona radiated all the time.

“Of course,” he said, “It feels, aheh… warm.”

“Okay, good,” Mona nodded, “So, um… do you feel like you can get a handle on it? The magic, I mean. Can you… do you feel like you can… I mean, to be honest, I’m just spitballing, here. I don’t know that much about magic myself; usually you’d have a Magicist teach you this sort of thing. But since the power source is my own magic, I have a feeling that it won’t work quite the same way as a relic or an enchanted stone or… whatever.” 

“Succinctly put,” deadpanned Plague Knight, “Oh well. So far it feels very satisfying, at least as a heated walking stick.”

Mona pursed her lips at him and folded her arms, “Alright, snarky. Let’s just try the textbook. Find something nice and simple to start with.”

Plague Knight dutifully flipped open the handsome red volume of Secrets of Arcana. The inside was full of small, cramped script, not unlike Mona’s handwriting. Each couple of pages detailed a new spell, with a diagram on the side showing either the result or the various steps required to perform it. 

“How about this one? It looks promising,” said Plague Knight, pointing to a specific section, “Platform Arcana; summon a platform to prevent falling from great heights, or to aid in climbing.”

Mona nodded, “Looks like a useful one. Especially for somebody as jumpy as you.”

“Heehee!”

Plague Knight ran his finger down the instructions of the spell. According to the textbook, he was meant to swing his magical item in an arc whilst calling out the correct spell. The spell in question was written in the Old Old Language, but a helpful pronunciation guide was included. Below that, the textbook explained that if one was skilled enough, they could perform the spell simply by thinking the words, rather than saying them. Plague Knight was glad of this; he didn’t much like the idea of running around shouting ancient curses. The Old Old Language sounded really stupid to modern ears.

“Got it?”

“I think so!”

Mona nodded and snapped her fingers. Secrets of Arcana was suddenly missing from in front of Plague Knight. He flicked his gaze upwards to see that it was suddenly sitting in Mona’s hand, glowing faintly blue at the edges.

“I have to practice too, you know,” said Mona, waving her left hand and sending the book toppling out of the air on top of Plague Knight. She flinched forwards to catch it, but he dodged out from under it and snatched it out of the air.

“Heh. Clearly!”

 

For the next ten minutes, the hall was filled with Plague Knight’s screechy voice belting out the Old Old words required to summon a platform. So far, he wasn’t making any progress; he could feel Mona’s magic roiling under his fingers, but it refused to do what he wanted it to. He checked the textbook a few more times to make sure his pronunciation was correct, and even began bomb-bursting around the chamber to give himself a reason to need a platform. 

Mona, meanwhile, was standing a few feet away. With a series of crisp, echoing snaps, she produced a vial, a stack of books, six flasks and an entire writing desk from thin air. Most of them landed very hard on the stone floor; the vial and half the flasks smashed -though Mona was quick enough to save a few of them- and the stack of books toppled over when it hit the ground. 

“Ugh! I’m still not graceful at summoning,” Mona groused, sitting down at the chair attached to the writing desk and drumming her fingers on the smooth, wooden surface. 

“Well, at least you CAN summon things,” Plague Knight replied in annoyance as he fell out of the air for the umpteenth time, “I can’t seem to do anything, heehee!”

Mona looked up at him, then stood up and approached.

“Do it again?”

Plague Knight swung his staff out and shouted the Old Old words. There was a sort of fizzle at the end of the staff, causing the little ornamental bird head at the end to glow ever so slightly.

“Hmm…” Mona glanced at his textbook, then back up at him, “I think your swing is off.”

“What? How so?”

“It’s a little too sharp… It’s supposed to be a nice, wide arc… Here, let me…”

Mona slowly, ever so hesitantly neared him, then dropped down to his height. When she rested on her knees, she was just short enough to look him in the eyes. 

“May I..?”

“…May you what?”

“…Just, um, show you…”

She shuffled a little closer, then gingerly wrapped her arm around him. Her head rested slightly on his shoulder, and her fingers closed over his wrist, so that they were sort of holding the staff together.   
She started saying something, probably advice on how to fix his swing, but Plague Knight didn’t hear a word of it. Instead, he was extremely distracted by a sudden, peculiar tingling sensation running up and down his spine. This was accompanied by a surge of heat that suddenly made it very inconvenient to be wearing a mask.   
Plague Knight was puzzled. He couldn’t tell where this sudden flash of warmth had come from. His first instinct was to assume it was Mona; after all, she radiated heat while using magic, and even under normal circumstances her skin was almost never cool. And yet, the source of the sudden temperature didn’t seem to be her form pressed so snugly against his; rather, it seemed to be generated from within. It was spreading outwards from his core, making sweat bead on his forehead and his breath come in a little funny. The tingling sensation was almost unbearable now, and Plague Knight worried he might lose his footing if Mona let go of him.

“…you hear me? Hey? Plague Knight?”

He shook himself out of his stupor and tried to focus on Mona’s voice.

“Heh– What? I… Sorry, I blanked out there a second…” he hoped he wasn’t coming down with something. He had so much work to do; he couldn’t be sick at a time like this. Maybe he’d adjust his vitamin supplements for impending illness, to head it off at the pass…

“Are you okay?”

“Oh yes, yes! I’m fine. Ah, what were you..?” 

“…Oh. Um, right. Well, as I was saying. You kind of need to do this.”

This time, Plague Knight heard Mona describe the swing in more detail. She pulled his arm back, gently, then brought it down in a wide arc. To both of their surprise, there was a sudden POP and half the stock of vats from the dungeons clattered to the ground before them.

“Whoa!”

“Heehee! Looks like a backup!”

Mona left Plague Knight’s side and went to stare curiously at the abundance of glassware. Plague Knight stumbled a little as she let go of him, but managed to keep his balance.

“Why vats..?” Mona muttered, aloud.

Plague Knight shrugged, “Well, the textbook didn’t specify what kind of platform to summon. I suppose these’ll do in a pinch!”

“Try summoning another one.”

Plague Knight steadied himself, glad that the tingling sensation was slowly fading, then brought his arm down in another swift motion. Lo and behold, a vat popped into existence. It slid slowly through the air, before settling calmly on the ground.

“Ha! Well, look at that. You’re better than me already,” Mona smirked, ruefully, “Try banishing them, now.”

Plague Knight peeked back into his textbook and discovered that the platforms would disappear on their own, unless forced to remain in place by additional magic. Sure enough, the vats began to disappear a few moments later.

Plague Knight was just about to voice his intentions to experiment a little more, when there was a loud thudding from down the hall. Minion’s screams were heard, along with the clanging of steel and loud voices. Plague Knight jerked sharply towards the noise, and Mona looked up as well. Oh dear– had the vats decided to banish themselves to the halls rather than their proper place in the dungeons? But no… it didn’t sound like a cacophony of glass. 

“What the devils is that..?”

Footsteps pounded down the hall, and suddenly, a pair of figures burst through the large doorway. One was human while the other was Equine. They were both dressed in travelling leathers and carrying swords. The human was wearing a funny little cap with wings on it, and Plague Knight quickly stifled a snicker at how ridiculous it looked.

“There he is!” cried the human, pointing, before faltering, “Hang on, I thought you said the knave was a man?!”

“Well, that’s what I heard!” replied the Equine, blinking in confusion. 

“Ah, it matters not! Justice knows no gender! Have at ye, vile fiend!”

Plague Knight could hardly believe what was happening. From what he could tell, a pair of adventurers were storming his castle under the impression he was some kind of evil lord. Plague Knight would have started laughing about it, but the trajectory of the Equine assailant quickly stole his attention.   
Sword drawn, the Stallion charged directly towards Mona, squealing aggressively. Plague Knight reacted reflexively, swinging his staff down, hard. As the Stallion leapt towards Mona, the spell went into effect, and a moment later, the attacker was falling back, his entire upper half shoved into the glassy confines of a vat. Mona had already dodged out of the way for good measure, and was seething.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she shouted.

“Silence, blackguard!” cried the human, who had rushed forwards to help extricate his friend from the vat, “Word has spread of your villainy, and we’ve come to destroy you once and for all!”

“Villainy?” Mona scoffed, “You’re clearly lost. This is the Explodatorium. We’re alchemists, not… whatever you think we are.”

“Alchemist! That unnatural word! Think not that you can trick us, foul miscreants; we know all about your ghastly experiments! You’ve come to this land to poison minds and reap the benefits! But no longer!!” neighed the Stallion, who finally came free of the vat as it disappeared.

With this distraction, Plague Knight was finally free to laugh himself silly. The pair of adventurers paused to stare at him.

“Your minion thinks us funny?” shot the human, angrily. 

“No. My Partner thinks you’re hilarious,” Mona corrected him. 

“And you ARE! HEEHEEHEE!!!” Plague Knight wailed, banging his fists on the ground. 

“Partner..? Then YOU are the..?”

Plague Knight’s laughter was suddenly joined by that of the adventurers. They howled, not quite as loudly, but just as mirthfully. Plague Knight got to his feet in confusion.

“What– What’s so funny? Did you just hear yourselves, heehee?”

“Have we the roles reversed? Are you–– Are you are the master of this castle?”

Plague Knight drew himself up, puffing out his chest. On a spark of inspiration, he hopped into the air and conjured a vat beneath him, tossing a bomb down simultaneously to create a cloud of intimidating smoke.

“Indeed! I am Plague Knight, master of the Explodatorium and alchemist extraordinaire! Heeheehee!” 

He knew his intro could use a little work, but he was fairly new at being known for his alchemical exploits rather than his criminal ones.   
But this simply made the adventurers laugh harder.

“It’s impossible!”

“He jests!”

“Surely–– This tiny little–“

“Minute–“

“Minuscule–“

The vat vanished from underneath Plague Knight sharply, dropping him on the ground with a soft bump. A hot wave of embarrassment crashed over him. Normally, he couldn’t care less about what others thought of him. He’d been picked on for his height for his entire life. But Mona was present. She’d seen his pathetic intro completely bomb. These two idiots were making him look bad in front of his dear partner– and that was not to go unpunished.

“Get out of my lab,” he hissed, suddenly sounding a lot more menacing. 

The adventurers reigned in their laughter, “Hoho! Should we even fight him?”

“How else are we to stop him?”

“But it seems cruel…”

Plague Knight whipped a bomb at the men’s feet. It bounced once, giving them just enough time to scramble out of the way. The human took flight, lifted into the air by his winged hat, which seemed to be some kind of magical relic. The Stallion cantered on all fours just fast enough to avoid the blast.

“I SAID OUT!”

“He bites!” laughed the human, drifting lazily under the vaulted ceiling.

“He barks, too!”

“But which is worse?”

Plague Knight didn’t have time for their witty banter. He felt Mona shuffle beside him. He looked up to see her watching the two men, smirking.

“These two don’t seem very bright. I think a little lesson is in order, don’t you?” she muttered.

“Heehee, oh yes!” replied Plague Knight, gleefully. 

He hadn’t had all that much time to himself whilst overseeing the construction of the Explodatorium, but he had made a point of continuing some of his personal experiments. One of these was upgrading his bombs. The round casings he used to use were outdated and deficient in many areas. But the new casings he’d developed were quite promising. His new standard was gourd-shaped, and packed twice as much punch as its predecessor. Besides that, Plague Knight had invented a secondary case for reaching higher places. Its wick was fed through a specialized handle that helped in tossing it to extreme heights. Plague Knight was pleased at his past self for developing exactly what he needed to deal with the cretin hovering around above him.

Mona retreated into the shadows of the hall to give Plague Knight space, and he scampered forwards eagerly. 

“Two on one? Don’t you think that’s a bit unsportsmanlike?” he quipped as the adventurers rushed to meet him. 

Plague Knight quickly dodged out of the way of the Stallion’s sword, then hit the ground to avoid a strike from above. He jammed his fists into his cloak and slapped a lob handle onto one of his bombs, then chucked it skyward. The bomb hit the flying human just as he was rising back into the air for another swoop, sending him whizzing away, trailing smoke.  
Plague Knight let out a whoop of laughter and hastily brought his staff up to block another blow from the Stallion. Bless Mona; whatever she’d added to the wood of the staff made it highly durable. The sword made a clanging noise as it hit the staff, sending sparks everywhere. Plague Knight’s arms shook as he attempted to repel the fierce strike, and knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.  
Instead, he gave one final push and rolled out from under the Stallion, scuttling away to toss a trio of bombs in quick succession. The resulting explosion knocked the Equine on his back. Plague Knight took the opportunity to tackle him. He couldn’t pin him, of course; he was very light, and Horses, by nature, were extremely heavy. But he could use his staff to bludgeon him. He attempted to strike the Stallion’s head, only for him to turn it out of the way.   
Plague Knight cursed.

“Stay still, won’t you?!” he screeched, still trying to smack the wriggling Equine between the eyes. It was a technique he often employed, and a useful one, too.

Suddenly, the adventurer pushed off the ground, knocking Plague Knight off of him. 

“You’ll pay for that dearly, you beaked buffoon!” he cried.

Plague Knight snickered and scrambled away from his sword slashes.

“How hurtful! You’re liable to make me cry! Heehee! Hahaha!!”

A whooshing sound alerted him to the human adventurer, who’d recovered. Plague Knight looked up to see him winging his way towards them. Plague Knight took a running leap and used the charging Equine’s head as a platform. Boosting off his cranium with a grunt, he sailed into the air, directly into the flying human’s path. Plague Knight hung in midair for a few moments as he sent bombs spinning towards his assailant, his long sleeves almost mimicking a pair of wings. The human was moving too quickly to dodge. This second explosion knocked his cap off, and sent him plummeting to earth. His partner below, who was clutching the boot mark pressed into the top of his head, quickly rushed to catch him.   
With a careful bomb-burst, Plague Knight fell to earth and skidded to a halt before spinning around and confronting the two adventurers. 

“Heehee! Have you learned your lesson? Or are you going to have to stay after class?!”

The Equine winced, “I think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew, Algernon…”

“We underestimated his cunning,” grumbled the human, “And it took me ages to get that Flight Cap…”

Without so much as a second glance, the pair began to limp out of the hall. Plague Knight had been expecting them to swear vengeance or at least shake their fists at him, but it seemed that they weren’t actually as keen on dispensing justice as they’d made themselves out to be. Plague Knight scowled behind his mask. Hmph. Adventurers. All just a bunch of greedy, dunderheaded blowhards.

He could hear them babbling on as they went. 

“Heh, kinda funny though. You got beat by a shrimp!”

“YOU got beat by a shrimp, my friend!”

Plague Knight bristled. Stupid, stupid, stupid adventurers. Oh well. At least Mona had seen him hand them their own rear ends on a silver platter. But… where was she?

“Mona..?”

He crept around the hall, looking for her, but she’d vanished. Oh no– Had she been injured during the fight? Had one of his bombs accidentally gotten away from him and hit her? But there were no scorched patches on the stones around where she’d been standing, and no blood, either. Plague Knight beetled out into the corridor ahead. A wave of relief washed over him as he spotted Mona’s dark figure kneeling a little ways away. He hastened over to find her poring over a bleeding minion on the ground, pressing on a wound in their side. Another one was standing next to her, fretfully.

“…I’m not a doctor,” she was saying, “But I’m doing my best to– Oh, Plague Knight, thank goodness!”

She sat up as he came to crouch next to her, “Those idiots hacked and slashed their way into the castle. I managed to patch up some of the less severe injuries myself, but this one’s not doing so well… You don’t have any stabilizers, do you?”

Plague Knight winced.

“Everyone stand back,” he snapped, “You, go get clean cloth and first aid supplies. Quickly, now!”

The minion next to them hopped to it, rushing away anxiously. Plague Knight turned back to his patient and sighed, quietly. The one problem with the minion’s uniforms was that they were so safe that removing them was not easy. 

“Banish her robes,” he said to Mona, hastily. Mona waved her hand, and the minion’s uniform disappeared, landing with a soft thump several feet away. 

The minion seemed to be alive and breathing, which was good. Plague Knight inspected the wound in her torso. The attack must have been vicious for it to cut so cleanly through the reinforced material, and… Oh blast. The sword had probably been filthy. The risk of infection by spores, as well as humour poisoning from other blood was in high likelihood. Damnation. 

Plague Knight felt no resentment towards the act of healing others, and was quite proud of his medical knowledge. But he hated moments like this. He hated being reminded of back then. The smell of blood. The groaning of bandaged mounds festering in filthy cots. The general, heavy stench of death and dying.   
He’d had enough of injuries for one day. He mentally added several new items to his to-do list. This sort of thing could never happen again.

\- - -

Two weeks passed. The damages caused by the marauding adventurers had been cleaned up, and Plague Knight’s new safety features were slowly making their way into production. He’d conceptualized a sort of gauntlet of pressure-activated flame vents that would surprise anyone unwary, but be fairly easy to navigate for anyone who worked in the Explodatorium. Bomb-bursting and the thick, fireproof robes would keep his minions safe while intruders burned.   
Mona flew into a manic little trance at the idea, feverishly sketching up mechanisms and diagrams. She’d clearly been studying her engineering as well as magic. Within a week, she’d built him a working prototype. Plague Knight had a very enjoyable time watching her work; she was a very pretty woman in general, but when she was experimenting, she seemed to glitter with a little extra… something. He couldn’t put his finger on it, really, but it gave him butterflies. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t watch the rest of your fight,” she’d said as she soldered this and hammered that, “I was really looking forward to seeing you blow those fools to kingdom come, but then I remembered the screams from when they came in, and I thought I’d try to take care of that while you were busy. …Oh well. This’ll be a lot of fun when it’s finished. I hope you like watching people dance, Plaguey, cause this’ll have them hopping!”

After finishing the burners, Mona remained extremely busy. She seemed delighted to have the resources of the Explodatorium at her disposal, and promised to use them to great effect. She told Plague Knight that she was going to work on some new types of powders that she’d dreamed up some time ago.

“Nobody will want to mess with you after this,” she told him, confidently, “And I’ve been dying to build them anyway.”

As much as Plague Knight wanted to join her in her alchemical endeavours, he was regrettably busy with many problems of his own. The injured still needed tending to, the renovations still needed overseeing, and a new project needed the rest of his attention.  
He’d been hoping to spend some quality time with his partner, and was rather disappointed that things were turning out so poorly. But he supposed he should have expected this, based on the way everything seemed to go in the Explodatorium. It was at least nice to have her in the same building as him. He checked in whenever he could, smiling to himself as he caught her giggling over columns of brightly coloured flames. 

Meanwhile, Plague Knight was back to brewing transmutation potions. During his days as a bandit, he often used them to disguise himself on more dangerous heists. He’d even taken on a completely invented persona in the form of ‘Bertram Petrel’ to invade the Academy of Alchemy and loot its storerooms. However, this time, he was facing something a little different.   
The recent incident had made him focus on his less-than-average stature more than ever, and it seemed that it was finally time to do something about it. Not that he hadn’t tried in the past, exactly. There were many things about Plague Knight that he’d tried to alter as a teenager, and his height was definitely one of them. Hovering on the slighter side of five feet had been constant torment for a variety of reasons, and he had been eager to put what once seemed like a limitless art into practice to relieve himself. But Plague Knight soon discovered that there were limits even to alchemy. Or perhaps, just limits to himself.

Try as he might, time after time, his various growth serums failed one after another, flat out refusing to alter his form in any longterm way. It had been a source of much fury to his younger self. But he was older now. He’d come to terms with it. His sickly body simply rejected any attempts to mutate it into anything other than it already was. And besides, much like the rats, changing oneself permanently was a lengthy and delicate process. It would take some kind of miracle to give Plague Knight the kind of power that would command all the respect and admiration he’d always dreamed of. So he’d learned to be cunning and clever in the meantime. People always valued strength above all else, but even the strongest could be defeated by the skillful application of trickery and guile. Plague Knight was supremely proud of his vast intellect, and it was almost always enough to keep him comfortable and happy. But appearances mattered too, and if Plague Knight were to continue his path to fame and fortune, he’d need to impress the common idiot as well… 

And herein lay the effectiveness of transmutation potions. Sure, they were temporary, but temporary was all he needed, if he stocked himself properly. He still had to be careful, however. His younger self had once tried to settle for this fleeting second-best, only to discover that the problem with transmutation potions was that, no matter what you changed into, you were always you, underneath. Trying to increase his physical strength worked for the duration of the draught’s effectiveness, but the resulting strain on his feeble muscles and frail disposition when he changed back nearly killed him. No matter how much he wanted it, Plague Knight could not rely on momentarily using a potion to increase his strength. But he always had his Sweet Vitriol… at least he could keep the pain away.

With all that in mind, Plague Knight deftly mixed together components, ever so carefully distilling and brewing his draught to avoid any accident. Transmutation potions were extremely delicate, and required the utmost of concentration and top-notch ingredients. The final result was a syrupy, pale blue concoction that smelled faintly of burning. 

He called Mona to him when he was finished. He felt a little silly for wanting to show her, but part of him desperately craved her approval. Especially after his recent embarrassment. 

“Behold, heehee!” he cried, holding his tiny round-bellied flask aloft, “My creation!”

“I’m beholding,” said Mona, “I’m a little distracted by your angry eyes, though.”

Plague Knight blushed a little. He was wearing a new set of robes that were too big for him, along with a new, crueler mask. The eyes were angled downwards, slightly, and the beak was curved and pointed to give it a menacing look. 

“Heh, heh, uhhh, well. It’ll all come together in a moment, Mona! Patience!”

“Alright…”

Plague Knight popped a straw into his flask and poked it through the hole in his large mask. The taste could use some work, he thought, ruefully, as he slurped down the bitter concoction. He shuddered and hunched over as the potion began to take effect. That uncomfortable prickling overcame him as always when imbibing one such draught, and he felt his skin and bones squash and stretch horrifically.  
When the transformation was over, Plague Knight gingerly straightened up and was momentarily overcome with a wave of dizziness. He took a few awkward steps, leaning on his staff for balance. 

“Whew… That’s strong stuff,” he mumbled.

He looked down at himself. The ground was rather more far away than usual, now, and his clothing no longer hung off him in great folds. As he regained his balance, be took a few steps, then performed a little dash. He jumped into the air and hit the ground. Despite feeling a little stretched out, everything seemed to be in working order. Plague Knight had taken great pains to change only his height, and not disturb anything else that might leave lasting effects after reverting back. He’d taken cues from his Bertram disguise. Bertram had been taller than him, but similar in weight. He was rather more well-built, but Plague Knight had taken care not to exert himself too badly in his skin. 

He skipped over to Mona and threw out his arms.

“Tada! Heehee! What do you think?”

“You’re taller!” she cheered in a mock-celebratory voice, smirking widely, “Now you can reach the top shelf of beakers!”

Plague Knight planted his hands on his hips, “Don’t be like that!”

“I just don’t get it, is all,” she replied, “How is being taller going to help you fight intruders? Your fight style is based around your size and maneuverability. Won’t being bigger screw that up?”

“No, no! I’ll just need a little practice fighting in this body, that’s all,” replied Plague Knight, “Besides, it’s about intimidation!”

“A little extra height isn’t going to scare anybody. Besides, you’re not even that tall.”

Plague Knight’s heart sank. She was right; he barely even reached her shoulder in this state. Even though Mona was extremely tall for a human, the height difference still meant that he was only about average.

“Uhh… Haha… Hee… Well, ahaha… I, eheh, I suppose you’re right,” he babbled nervously. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea after all? 

“Wait– Plague Knight, I didn’t mean it like that,” Mona cut in hastily before he could worry any further, “I just… All I meant was…”

She sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair, “You don’t… You don’t need to change anything, okay? You’re… fine. As you are.”

Plague Knight stared at her in confusion. Whatever meaning was behind these words, his brain simply couldn’t process it. He was completely at a loss as to what to say. But he did know, at least, that Mona was apologizing to him, and that made him feel better.

“Eh… heh… Uhhh…”

Mona paused a few seconds, before walking up to him. She cocked her head, slightly, then smirked down at him.

“Well… At least I don’t have to bend over so far to see you, anymore,” she murmured, warmly.

Plague Knight chuckled. He was about to say something, when the prickling sensation enveloped him again, and Mona’s face quickly sped away from his. He stumbled a few steps back, then giggled. He had only swallowed enough to test the transformation, after all. 

“Well! So much for that, heehee!”

Mona stifled a snicker and placed her hands on her hips. 

“It’s a great potion. Very structurally sound. And, if I’m honest…” she leaned over and gently chucked his mask under the chin, “Your new beak is pretty spooky.”

Plague Knight grinned a wobbly, hidden grin. For whatever reason, he found himself feeling disproportionally pleased by her approval.


	7. Aqua Vitae

All good things came to an end, of course. Before Plague Knight knew it, Mona’s visit was over.

“I should really be getting back to The Village,” she said, reluctantly, “There’s finances to be… financed, and something tells me you could use some new recruits.”

She left Plague Knight with a heavy heart and two large sacks of carefully concocted powder; her final gift to him for the time being. These were the little experiments she’d been working on during her stay at the Explodatorium. Tracer and Cascade powder, she’d dubbed them.   
Tracer produced a pair of rolling green flames that tumbled over the immediate terrain before snuffing out, and Cascade resembled the magenta spouts of fire of his purification potions, only far more volatile.   
They were both immensely useful and amusing, and Plague Knight treasured them deeply. Mona had also promised him ‘a little something special, once I work out the bugs’, which kept him hopeful that she might return soon.   
But he couldn’t sit around waiting for her; as usual, he had plenty to do. 

Now that most of the hallways were being fitted with defensive burners, his minions needed to know how to navigate them properly. Their uniforms were treated with antimony to keep them from catching on fire, but that didn’t ward off injury completely.  
So, the day after Mona departed for The Village, Plague Knight found himself in the main hall standing next to a series of makeshift platforms he’d hastily constructed for this very purpose.

“Minions,” he called to the group at large, “Today we will be learning a very useful technique that will aid in keeping you all out of harm’s way!”

‘Unless you screw it up really rather badly like you’re all liable to do, heh’, he thought, ruefully. 

The minions looked at each other and babbled, curiously. Plague Knight silenced them by bomb-bursting into their midst, sending them scattering. He cackled as they scampered to the edges of the room.

“You’ve all seen me do that before, yes?” he giggled, turning his head this way and that to catch scores of fearful nods, “Well! Be envious no longer… For today, you will learn how!!”

Plague Knight had his minions line up behind the platform at one end of the room. A small ladder lead to the top of it, and each minion took their turn climbing up and making an attempt to reach the platform at the other end… without touching the ground. A large straw mat was laid out between both platforms, to catch any failures, and the poor thing was quickly put through its paces.

Despite Plague Knight’s careful instructions and demonstrations on when to drop one’s bomb and how to position oneself, minion after minion failed to make the jump. Certain failures were pedestrian, while others were absolutely spectacular. One minion managed to somehow detonate his bomb above him, sending him crashing straight into the middle of the mat with a loud thud. Another sent herself spinning off to the left and smashing into the stone floor instead. Yet another was so nervous that they accidentally dropped their bomb on top of the platform, destroying it.  
The group took a break then while several minions rebuilt the broken platform. Plague Knight supposed he should have seen this coming. Of course they were no good at this; they were the same minions who routinely drank chemicals straight out of the beakers for no reason. At least until he’d slapped beaks on their faces to stop them.   
When everything was back in order, the line resumed, and more silly green-cloaked figures tossed themselves skyward and crashed dismally to the ground. 

“Sigh… NEXT!” shouted Plague Knight, for the umpteenth time, as a female minion ploughed into the mat just inches from the other platform.

“W-wait!”

Plague Knight flinched. The minion just climbing up the ladder next to him nearly fell off it.   
The minion at the other end of the room was pushing herself to her feet and brushing down her uniform.

“Master– Er, b-boss–“ she called, meekly, “I… M-may I––“

She seemed extremely anxious to voice whatever she wanted to say, yet determined to get it out. Finally, she bowed so low that her beak nearly hit the ground, and shouted, “MAY I TRY AGAIN?!”

There was a small pause. Plague Knight stared at her. None of the minions had ever asked to retry their jump twice in a row. He looked to the minion next to him, and waved them aside.

“…You may,” he replied, cautiously, and beckoned the female minion over.

She shuffled towards the first platform, a sense of determination emanating from her gait. She climbed up the ladder, took a moment to steady herself, then took a careful leap into the air.   
Just before the apex of her jump, she dropped one of her bombs. The explosive detonated just as she hit the highest point in the air, and she rode the wave of heat and shrapnel across the imagined chasm. Just inches from the far-end platform, she gave a decisive flap of her robes, pushing her just far enough to land unsteadily onto her target.   
She stumbled a few steps, nearly fell, then dropped to her knees and caught her breath. There was long silence.

Then the minions broke into a storm of applause.

“SHE DID IT!!”

“SHE REALLY DID IT!!”

“SHE GOT TO THE OTHER SIDE!!”

The entire group of minions mobbed her, all trying to lift her atop their shoulders in triumph. Plague Knight couldn’t help but smile under his mask. It was rare that a minion took such positive initiative, but it was very heartening to see. Especially when it didn’t end in explosive disaster.  
Plague Knight pushed his way through the throng of jubilant minions to speak to their new star.

“Heh, what is your number, young lady?”

“Eighty-two, b-boss!” she squeaked, breathless from exertion and excitement. 

“Eighty-two! That makes you our newest recruit, doesn’t it? Well, it seems your first week on the job is turning out to be a -heheh- blast! I’d like you to show me that burst again, if you please…”

Eighty-two scrambled off the other minions’ shoulders and hastened to Plague Knight’s side. The minions let her go, opening a path to the platforms.  
Plague Knight had her burst back and forth several times, keeping a close eye on her technique and how often she hit her mark. Once he was satisfied, he beckoned her to him again.

“Eighty-two,” he said, genially, “It seems that, against all odds, you’ve managed to repeat your success, and I am genuinely impressed! You actually seem halfway -heehee- competent! In light of the recent string of horrific failures from your colleagues, I would like you to aid me in setting them straight… Are you up to the task?”

“Oh–– Yes, boss– A-absolutely!” she gasped, still catching her breath from her recent trials, “A-anything to help!”

“Then I hereby deputize you as my assistant teacher… Construction team one! Another pair of platforms, if you please!”

 

The lessons began to run much more smoothly from then on. The rotations were quicker now that there was a second station, and the reduced amount of pupils made teaching much simpler. Minions began showing marked improvements, and Plague Knight found it much easier to discern and fix minor flaws in their performances. His first setup had been rather poor, he mused, though he hadn’t had much choice considering the circumstances. Thank goodness for Eighty-two.   
She seemed to take quite well to the assistant-teacher role. She was a tad too meek while instructing the others, and Plague Knight had to step in once or twice to stop an argument or two, but otherwise, she made a dependable deputy.   
By the end of the day, at least a quarter of the minions were capable of making it clumsily from one platform to the other, with the rest of them showing at least a little promise of following in their footsteps. As the sky grew dark, Plague Knight began sending minions off to eat and rest. He would usually have sent them to the labs to resume their various production roles, but considering the physical exhaustion they’d all endured, they’d probably only make mistakes. Baby steps. One thing at a time.

Eventually, the main hall was empty of everyone except Plague Knight and minion Eighty-two. She was standing to the side, staring at the ground in silence.

“Something the matter..?” asked Plague Knight, uncertainly. 

She jumped, a little.

“O-oh..! No, I– S-sorry, boss, I’m just…” she worried the hem of her apron with her hands, “I-I’m just…”

Her stammering silence made Plague Knight begin to regret speaking to her. He didn’t actually want to have a conversation with her. He was terrible at those. He didn’t do small-talk.

“…J-just really, r-really amazed, I-I suppose,” she finished, finally, “I-I-I never thought… I could do all that..!”

Plague Knight nodded uncertainly, “Ah, well. You showed commendable skill, heehee… Far less bumbling than the average minion…”

“J-just trying to please, b-boss!” she cried, bowing low again.

He wished she wouldn’t do that. He liked obedience and respect in his minions, but something about this kind of behaviour made him a little uncomfortable. He didn’t like people grovelling unless he was angry at them. Was she nervous in his presence? That was both good and… maybe not so good.   
He remembered his earlier thoughts about showing his appreciation towards the minions; letting them know they’d done a good job, and hopefully encouraging them to do more. He was good at discipline, but often came up short at giving non-violent incentives…   
Suddenly, an idea struck him.

“…Eighty-two. Answer me this,” he instructed, suddenly.

Eighty-two snapped to attention, “Y-yes, boss?”

“Despite the general lack of intelligence, grace, and overall competence in this workforce,” he began, “Every so often… you minions actually do me proud. I would like to… show my appreciation for your efforts, heh. What course of action do you think would be best suited to that end, Eighty-two..?”

Eighty-two cocked her head in surprise, before placing her hands together thoughtfully in front of her.

“W-well, boss… Y-you want to show everyone that you’re proud of their work, so far, is that right, boss?”

“Yes.”

“W-well… Erm, perhaps, a little party might do the trick?”

Plague Knight blinked.

“A party?”

“Er, y-yes! I mean, just as a suggestion,” she gabbled, fretfully, “Everyone loves parties, boss! It would be a nice chance to unwind, and it would really help morale! N-not that there’s a morale problem! I mean, I-I’ve only been around for a week, like you said! But, uh, y-you know… It might be nice! Er, when I was a laundress, boss, sometimes the other ladies and I would get together for drinks. Just h-have a little get-together. I-it really helped us feel less like drowning ourselves in the washtubs, h-heh!”

“Hmm…”

The minions did seem to be rather tense and a little taciturn, as of late. Perhaps they did need a little morale-booster after all. It might increase productivity and stave off more idiotic mistakes… or it might not. But it was worth a shot. 

“Thank you, Eighty-two. For your assistance on both matters. I shall keep that in mind… Now, off with you, heehee!”

Eighty-two saluted gingerly, then scuttled away to the designated eating area. Plague Knight, on the other hand, made his way back to his makeshift lab. The one problem with the party idea was that, well… Plague Knight didn’t know a damn thing about parties.  
He’d never been invited to a personal one in his life, and the few festivals and street-fairs he’d attended were only good for picking pockets or causing mayhem. Actually attending a party was simply not something that intersected with his life.   
He considered writing Mona on the subject; after all, she was a noble, and nobles seemed to throw an awful lot of parties. But then again, that type of festivity might be too extravagant for his minions. He certainly wasn’t going to spring for china plates and red carpets.   
The easiest answer seemed to be asking the minions themselves. So, after quaffing a flask of vitamin goo and privately nibbling on a bit of bread, he bustled down to the minions’ quarters to ask around.

The minions seemed quite wary of his presence at first, but perked up pleasantly at his unexpected line of questioning. From their reactions, Plague Knight began to feel confident that holding a party was the right course of action after all. He might have to promote Eighty-two sometime, if promotions became something he incorporated into his industry. She was at least the only minion he knew who was anywhere near deserving of one.   
By the end of the evening, Plague Knight had a general idea of what a party involved. It was quite simple, in fact; a few good hours without any work to speak of, accompanied by food and drink. Plague Knight could provide that. He chose a date; a week from the present day, and announced it to the minions the following morning. Murmurs of excitement and appreciation went up from the crowd as he spoke, and he felt satisfied that everything would go smoothly. After all, how on earth could something as harmless as a party go wrong? 

For the next week, Plague Knight spent his free time tracking down the required materials for his little celebration. He managed to find a fairly cheap supply of food from a group of farms a little ways away, as well as a couple of kegs of Aqua Vitae and juice. Two days before the party was set to begin, he wrote a letter to Mona. He hoped she might be able to make it up to the Explodatorium to join in the festivities. After all, he thought to himself, Mona deserved a party more than anyone. She was the backbone of the operation, its lifeline and cofounder. She kept the funds in order, managed employment and generally provided all sorts of helpful services. And she was Plague Knight’s partner. …And his friend. 

Unfortunately, no reply came from The Village, and the day of the party approached rapidly. Plague Knight resigned himself to attending the event alone, and quickly banished any feelings of disappointment. 

When the day arrived, the minions gathered eagerly in the makeshift mess hall, which had been decorated with green banners and streamers. Plague Knight had constructed them out of old tarps and whatever else he had lying around. The tables the minions usually ate at were laden with food, and the kegs of Aqua Vitae and juice were carefully set up in one corner. Plague Knight climbed atop one of the tables and rapped his staff on it to gain the group’s attention.

“Ehem! Minions. I believe a little, heh, speech is in order,” he said. Speeches were common at these sort of things, it seemed; at least, he did remember a lot of rousing blather from the few he’d snuck into to rob, “It has been nearly a year since the birth of the Explodatorium. Some of you were here from the beginning, and others have joined since… But despite the… rather staggering odds, we have all come together in the glorious pursuit of alchemy! And the fruits of our labour are nearly ripe! Look around you! This once dilapidated and decrepit hovel will soon be an almighty monument to the glory and majesty of science! Alchemy was once unknown to this land, but we have set the minds of the population alight! And you… despite many obstacles and fits of incompetence… have helped make it happen. So, heh, I command you to celebrate! Heehee!”

He threw up his arms, and the minions gave an ardent, if slightly uncertain cheer. Then they all separated into little groups, most heading together towards the tables full of food. Minion after minion pulled their masks down around their necks so that they could talk and eat more easily. It was a little jarring to see all of their faces again, all of the sudden. In fact, the rising hubbub began to make Plague Knight feel a little uncomfortable.  
He found himself gravitating to the edge of the room, out of the way of most pairs of eyes. He reached into his robes and withdrew his flask of Sweet Vitriol. With the new shipment of Aqua Vitae, he’d had the opportunity to make a rather nice stock of the stuff, and decided he could get away with indulging a little. After all, the minions were drinking too, weren’t they? So he popped one of his straws into the flask and took a sip of the concoction inside.   
The taste wasn’t fantastic, but drinking the stuff was always a slightly different experience than inhaling it. A quick sniff calmed his nerves and kept pain at bay, but actually imbibing the chemical gave him a pleasant sort of hum throughout his entire body. He didn’t often do it, considering how few and far between a new bottle of Sweet was, but he could get away with it now. And he needed it, anyway.

Seeing all the minions chatting together made him feel very small indeed. They were all being… social. Palling around with their… friends. Plague Knight could make bombs in an instant, mix chemicals like a pro and invent antidotes on the fly, but here, he was way out of his depth. He wanted to leave and cloister himself away in his lab, but he feared leaving the minions alone for more than an hour at a time. So instead, he sipped Sweet Vitriol and let the chemicals blur his senses, drowning his anxiety in a wonderful, heady buzz.   
Eventually, he found himself wandering throughout the party, listening idly to the chatter. He hated being still, and there really wasn’t anywhere else to go. The minions were so distracted by the general feeling of good cheer and Aqua Vitae that they barely noticed his presence, and certainly didn’t shy away like they normally did. Nobody called out to him, and nobody drew him in to the party. He liked it this way. He was a ghost amongst the revellers.   
Plague Knight eventually found himself next to the kegs, and good thing, too; his bottle was nearly empty. He filled it clumsily up with the required measurement of alcohol, then fumbled in his robes for a vial of vitriol. He was just doing his best to drip the stuff in without spilling it, when he caught wind of a nearby conversation.

“…just really surprised, you know?”

“Yeah. I never thought the boss’d do anything like this. He’s such a stick ’n the mud.”

“Stick in th’ mud? If he were any more uptight, he’d strangle’imself!”

“Haha! You’d think a guy who -hic- laughs that much would be more fun…”

“What’s up with that laugh, anyway? Scares ‘e hell outta me.”

“Yeah! He sounds like those evil birds… Y’know the ones… One dive-bombed twenny-eight yeserday?”

“Ohhh yeah. Yeah! Sometimes they caw and I think it’s th’ boss comin’ round’a scream at us!”

“Got a lotta nerve for… a guy who’s barely five feet…”

Plague Knight found himself giggling. He needed to heat up his new bottle of Sweet Vitriol. He lit a match and held it under the bulb of his flask as he listened to the minions continue to complain about him. 

“Hahaha! Five feet! Y’think that’s why he’s got a stick up ‘is ass?”

“Egh… Please don’ say that… He keeps pokin’ me with it…”

“Hahaha!! Not that stick, dummy!”

“Could you imagine, though..?”

“Gotta… make himself hop around somehow!”

“Haaa– Stop, m’gonna throw up–“

“He’slike… some kinna toadvolt… Green. Jumpy. An’e’ll zap ya if ya so much’s look at’im!”

“Well I never -hic- seen his face! Could be true!”

“Sometime’s I’d rather work for a toadvolt…”

Plague Knight extinguished his match and nearly spilled his vitriol all over himself from shaking. His shrieky laughter must have been louder than he realized, because the group of minions in front of him turned around.

“Ah… shit…”

“Oh h-hi boss, we were jus’– hic– jus’– hic––“

“Just airing some grievances?” cackled Plague Knight, “Heehee! Haha! How delightful! Forty-three– You want to work for a toadvolt? I’m sure one could get more use out of you! You could tramp around the swamp, helping it catch flies! Then again, with your reflexes, I doubt you could catch a cold..!”

Plague Knight swung around to point at another minion, “And you, fifty-one! Heeheehee! It wouldn’t be the first time you threw up after drinking too much! Only the first time, it was Aqua Ragia! Hahahaha!!”

Plague Knight stumbled slightly and caught onto the edge of a table to steady himself as he heaved with laughter, “You people will put anything in your mouths, won’t you? I could– hahaha– I could leave a pile of clearly marked chemical waste next to the disposal areas– haha– And if they were shaped like cakes, you’d stuff yourselves silly before you even tasted the bitumen! And I doubt some of you’d even stop after that– Heeheeheehahaha!!”

The hubbub of the party was slowly dying as Plague Knight’s voice rose higher and higher over the others. Minions were turning to watch as the little alchemist wheezed with mirth.

“And YOU, six!!” he waddled up to minion number six and doubled over with cackles, “Trying to impress the ladies with fulminating silver?! On the FIRST LESSON?! You can always increase the BANG in one area, but I doubt you ca––“

WHAM!

Six had hauled off and punched Plague Knight square in the beak, sending him reeling backwards. The minions surrounding them gasped as Plague Knight hit the floor, but he bounced up soon again afterwards, cackling like a maniac.

“Oooooh! Hit a nerve, did I?! Heeheeheehahaha!! So sensitive! I thought insulting people was -haha- FUNNY!”

Six stumbled after him, trying to land another punch.

“I’ve had jus’ about enough a you, you giggling maniac!” he slurred, furiously.

Plague Knight danced backwards, wobbling back and forth and guffawing. 

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?”

“Yer no boss’a mine!”

“Hmmmmm, it seems the Vitae’s gone to your head… But no worries! I have something that’ll sober you up reeeeaaall quick! Heeheehee– HAHAHA–– BOOM!!!”

Screams went up from the minions as all hell broke loose– Plague Knight lobbed bombs left right and centre, and footsteps echoed down the halls as minions ran for their lives. Tables were knocked over, food spilled all across the floor, and one of the kegs smashed open sending a wave of liquid to join the rest of the mess.  
Even after the minions had completely fled the chamber, Plague Knight continued to hop around, tossing bombs and laughing maniacally, lost in his own shimmering, blurry world of vitriol and adrenaline.

 

When coherent thoughts returned to him, Plague Knight found himself collapsed halfway onto his cot in his lab. His mouth tasted awful and his whole body felt sticky with sweat and spilled party food. 

“Eugh…”

Plague Knight sat up groggily. He tried to remember exactly what had happened before he’d blacked out. He had a vague memory of good cheer, laughter and explosions. The party…  
He chuckled softly to himself. It had turned out to be a lot of fun… but not for the reasons it was supposed to be. And he’d probably bungled up his little incentive… but he didn’t regret it. It had turned out to be a good lesson in respect for at least one of his minions. He wondered where six had run off to… 

A knock on his trap door startled him, and he whipped around.

“Who’s there, hee?” he called out, croakily. 

“M-m-minion Eighty-two, boss,” came the timid, muffled reply.

Eighty-two? Ah, yes… The mastermind herself. Plague Knight looked down at himself. He was covered in half eaten food, stains and possibly somebody else’s vomit. He winced, then scrambled to a trunk at one end of the room and quickly changed into a fresh robe, stuffing the old one unceremoniously behind the container. 

“Come in,” he called, once he was sure he looked at least vaguely presentable. The trapdoor opened and Eighty-two shuffled in, meekly. She was carrying a messenger bag over her shoulder and looking absolutely terrified. Before Plague Knight could do anything, she threw herself at his feet.

“Oh please! Don’t fire me,” she begged him, tearfully, “I never thought the party would turn out like this– I-I just wanted to help!”

Plague Knight stared at her uncomprehendingly, and shied away from her fingers as they nearly touched his boots. Why on earth did she think any of this was her fault?

“Heh… Calm yourself, Eighty-two,” he snapped, poking her gently with one of his feet, “You’re hardly responsible for the actions of your fellows…”

“B-but if I’d never suggested the party, none of this would have happened,” she whimpered, “And you were so upset– I never meant––“

“Upset..? What gave you that idea, hee?”

Eighty-two looked up in surprise, “W-well– T-the fighting, of course! The things the other minions said– I-I heard them, you know…”

“Heh, I don’t give a fig for any of their meaningless babble,” said Plague Knight dismissively.

‘And it’s nothing I haven’t heard before,’ he thought, privately.

“B-but it was completely uncalled for! R-reprehensible!” cried Eighty-two, passionately, “A-after all you’ve done for us! The nerve… So ungrateful!”

Plague Knight cocked his head.

“All I’ve..?”

“Steady employment, a roof over their heads, decent h-healthcare, a chance to know all sorts of things you could never dream of… a chance to learn..! How could they take it all for granted..?”

Plague Knight stared at Eighty-two, his stomach twisting. He’d made sure to try to hire people who were unsatisfied with their lives, knowing that they would be the most likely to actually join his organization… but until this moment, he never realized that he was actually providing them with something so positive. Plague Knight had assumed Eighty-two was joking when she’d spoken so darkly about her previous job as a laundress… But perhaps she really was happier, here. Did she really care about alchemy? Were there others like her? Amongst the idiotic masses, were there really just a few who actually looked on him, not as a provider of their pay check, but as something of a… teacher..?

No… Perhaps not. Cynicism won over. This was all just a game, and every game needed a set of pawns. But Eighty-two deserved reassurance. She, at least, seemed genuine. 

“…You’ve done nothing wrong, Eighty-two. Now stop blubbering and get up. You’re far too useful to be fired, even if I was angry about the party.”

Eighty-two clambered to her feet.

“I-I’m sorry, boss…”

“Don’t be.”

There was a small, very uncomfortable silence, before Eighty-two seemed to remember something. She pulled the messenger bag off of her shoulder and offered it jerkily to her superior.

“B-boss– The mail minion had a delivery for you,” she said, “B-but he got drunk and… ran off when the… um… B-but I brought you his bag, so..!”

Plague Knight reached out and took the bag, flicking a stray slice of cheese off of it and opening it up. Inside was a letter, and a large, bulky package. Plague Knight’s heart leapt.

“Ehem. Thank you, Eighty-two. Please go rest. Don’t be… sad… anymore. Heehee.”

He didn’t have the patience to come up with something properly comforting to say. Eighty-two nevertheless seemed to be in better spirits, and she quickly disappeared down the trap door a moment later.

Plague Knight tore open the letter and felt his own spirits explode into the air. 

 

“Dear Plague Knight 

Sorry I couldn’t make it to your little shindig. I’ll bet it was a blast! …haha. Anyway, I’ve just hit a bit of a busy patch down here, and I don’t really have the time to come up. I’m working very hard on something… well, on a lot of things, really. More tricky alchemagical stuff. Way more explosive this time. You’ll see, when I’m finished- it’s a surprise!

I did want to wish you a happy anniversary though; it’s almost the Explodatorium’s birthday. But it’s also been about a year since we left Humeheath… and longer since we met. Time really flies, huh? I wanted to celebrate it with you, somehow, so I sent you a little something. It’s a brew I’ve been thinking about for a while… It’s not really my favourite kind of alchemy, but I thought it might help. It’s sort of a prototype, though, so I don’t know how much that will be. Either way, I tried to make it taste good. You’ll try it for me, right?

For Science!

Mona”

There was a hastily scribbled post-script. It looked as if it had been added at the last minute, on a sudden whim.

“P.S. Thanks. For everything. I’ll come as soon as I can.”

 

Plague Knight held the letter in his hands, staring at it warmly. His earlier agitation was gone, now. Mona was thinking of him, and doing alchemy.

He set the letter down on his cot and reached into the bag to retrieve the bulky parcel. It was wrapped very carefully in padded cloth. When he shelled it, he realized why; it was a large, glass bottle filled with thick, red liquid. It had a strong stench that Plague Knight couldn’t quite place, and the bottle was warm to the touch. He rummaged in his robes for his straw, then uncorked the bottle and took a sip.

The effect was instantaneous. The liquid slid down his throat like a dollop of molten honey. It was sweet, with a slightly bitter, spicy aftertaste, and it filled his body with a heat so intense that his knees buckled. 

“Whew– B-better sit down for this, heehee!” he giggled aloud. 

He could feel each swallow of the stuff travel down his esophagus and settle in his stomach like a burning coal. The heat was extreme, and it was almost hard to keep drinking, and yet he felt compelled to. It felt uncomfortable at first, but as he imbibed, the potion really seemed to begin to take effect. When the bottle was finally empty, Plague Knight felt as if he were wrapped in a warm embrace. It was a foreign feeling… but not an unwelcome one. 

Plague Knight flopped onto his cot and let out a loud, wistful sigh. 

‘I’ll come as soon as I can’…

He certainly hoped so. He wanted to ask her about the exact nature of the potion… What it was meant for, what she planned to improve on it, and why it felt… the way it felt.   
As his eyelids drooped, a general feeling of good will settled upon him. Maybe he would try the party thing again… The minions, however stupid, deserved something nice. This time, he’d just cut out the Aqua Vitae. They were stupid enough as it was without alcohol.


	8. Prime Your Potions

The next day, Plague Knight awoke feeling absolutely fantastic. His usual fatigue was lesser than usual, and there seemed to be a little extra spring in his twitchy step.   
The minions all seemed extremely anxious around him at first, but began to calm down a little as they noticed his jubilant mood. He made no effort to apologize for the way things had turned out, seeing no point in it, but he didn’t dole out any punishments to the more mouthy minions, either.  
All in all, all parties seemed to consider it a fair trade. Work resumed as usual, though a general sense of trepidation lingered.  
Plague Knight made his usual rounds, checking on the various stations that were set up around the enormous lab. Minions flinched out of his way as he passed, and stammered as he spoke to them. Some of them fumbled with beakers and other lab equipment, shattering quite a few. Plague Knight made an effort not to shout at them, knowing that would only make it worse, but was fairly terse about commanding them to clean up their messes.   
They would return to normal eventually. Time was nature’s greatest healer. But in the meantime, he’d have to deal with extra spills if he was around, and extra spills if he wasn’t around to keep an eye on them. Lose-lose…

Plague Knight’s good mood slowly evaporated as the day went on. By lunchtime, he decided he needed a little pick-me-up. He gathered a trio of minions and made his way to the rat chamber, hoping to check on the progress of his little monsters. Successful experiments always cheered him up, and there was something that tickled him about the rats.  
According to the reports, the explosive rats had begun breeding, whether with their fellow volatile rodents or any of the others that had escaped their alchemical fate. This was interesting news, of course; Plague Knight would have to see if the explosive effect carried over to offspring, and what might befall hybrids of normal and explosive rats.  
Upon entry to the rat chamber, Plague Knight was greeted by a chorus of squeaks.

“Yes, yes, hello, heehee!” he called back, “Been getting busy now, have you? Let’s see those pups..!”

The little infant rats ranged in age. Some were in the tiny, skinny stage of recent birth, whilst others were small, fuzzy images of their parents. All of them carried the green pigmentation of their fellows, giving Plague Knight high hopes that they’d managed to inherit their explosive capabilities.  
Sure enough, when Plague Knight reached into a cage and pulled out one of the older baby rats, a quick toss across the room proved that it did indeed possess the enhanced durability and volatile nature of the other explodarats.

Plague Knight happily tested the rest of the new generation with his three helpers, taking down results and chuckling contentedly at every new explosion.   
The testing took some time, but they eventually began to wind down once the supply of new rats dwindled. Plague Knight was just making some observation on the variants of explosions between different rats, when one of his minions called him.

“Erm, boss?”

He looked up, “What is it?”

“Uh, um. We’ve got a problem.”

Plague Knight tucked his little notebook away and scuttled over. The minion pointed across the room to a tiny green lump on the floor. It was one of the baby rats. This one seemed older than newborn, judging by the fur covering its body, but its size was still quite small. It appeared to be stunned, laying on its back with its little paws in the air.

“This one didn’t blow up, boss. I think it’s broken.”

Plague Knight hastened to the creature and scooped it up. As he did so, it twitched and nosed his fingers, squeaking feebly. It really was quite small, and despite its green colouration, it seemed to lack an explosive charge. Running his finger through its fur didn’t produce the usual oily feeling the other rats did. Plague Knight cradled it, feeling his stomach roll over.

“…Heh. Look at you. A tiny little failure. Can’t do the one thing you were put on this earth to do…”

A few moments later, he tucked the rat safely into his robes.

“You three finish these up, and keep careful notes. And don’t let any of the subjects escape, heehee!”

 

Back in his lab, Plague Knight gently deposited the baby rat on his cot and checked it for any further signs of injury. It seemed to have recovered well from its little trip to the ground, and scurried over his sheets, sniffing curiously. Plague Knight chuckled. He placed a cage that he’d borrowed from the rat chamber down next to him.

“Heehee. What do you think,” he muttered, half to himself, half to the rat, “Shall we stick together? Birds of a feather… Rats of a… something else, I suppose?”

He cast around for something to feed the creature for now, and remembered his filthy robe from yesterday. It seemed he didn’t need to seek it out, however, as his new pet was already scampering towards it, having smelled its putrid layer of leftovers. The rodent scuttled across the floor with a soft patter of pale green feet and disappeared behind the trunk at the other end of the room.   
Plague Knight giggled and followed it, then scooped up the disgusting garment and its ratty passenger, and tucked them both snugly into the cage. The little rat was gnawing on a bit of dry chicken and looking rather content. Plague Knight smiled behind his mask and took a mental note to properly set up the cage when he had time.

“…Heh. I’ll call you Bertram,” he said, at last, “I always liked that name.”

\- - -

Plague Knight returned busily to his rounds, checking in on the rest of the minions. He’d set a small rotation of them moving from their regular jobs down to the main corridor for bursting lessons with Eighty-two. When he went to see her, she was just helping a minion up from the mat and patting them awkwardly on the back.

“Y-you were very close!” she was saying, “Just, try not to flail around so much…”

She jumped a little as she caught sight of her boss, but he merely gave her a nod and went on his way. 

As the weeks wore on, the minions became less and less jumpy around him, and began to return to their usual dopey selves. Just as predicted. Thankfully. Plague Knight liked to have his underlings slightly in fear of him at all times, but not to the detriment of their work. He just wanted them to follow orders properly.   
While he wasn’t teaching lessons or clearing up explosions, Plague Knight was putting together a proper cage for little Bertram. He made sure the tiny rodent had enough room to scamper around, as well as plenty of food to eat. Every so often he’d open the cage and let Bertram explore his lab or his robes. The rat seemed to enjoy being gently scratched with Plague Knight’s long, talon-like nails. Plague Knight found himself growing quite attached to the little creature. He’d always rather liked animals, though he’d never really had the time or resources to keep his own. He often scoffed at those who kept livestock, since it was so much work and mess, but every once in a while he caught a shepherd patting their sheep or a villager playing with their dog, and he felt a sense of enviousness creep through him. He idly read books on how to train and keep animals, imagining a future where he might perhaps do so… and now it was all paying off.  
Little Bertram seemed quite content in his new home, and Plague Knight was perfectly glad to keep him.

He was just feeding the little rodent a bit of potato out of his hands when there came a knock on his trapdoor. Plague Knight hastily put Bertram back in his cage and answered.

“What is it? I’m busy.”

“Er, boss? You’ve got visitors.”

“Visitors? Hee! More clients from the Outpost? You know you’re supposed to take their requests and fill them…”

“No, boss– it’s Ms. Recruiter from down in the village, and–“

“Mona?”

“Uhh… Yes..?”

Plague Knight quickly threw open the trapdoor, startling the minion and nearly sending her tumbling down the ladder.

“When did she arrive? Has she been waiting long? Where is she?”

The minion backed down the ladder, nervously.

“J-j-just got here, boss– She’s in the main hall, now…”

Plague Knight let the trapdoor fall with a bang and beetled past the minion, hurrying to the main hall. Sure enough, when he arrived, a tall figure was waiting for him in under one of the arches. Heartbeat increasing tenfold, Plague Knight happily skipped towards her outline in the distance.

“Mona! I thought you said you were busy, hee! What are you doing up here n…”

He trailed off as he noticed that Mona was not, in fact, alone. She was supporting somebody against her side, somebody who was nearly as tall as she was, dressed in blue, groaning, and… a Horse.

It was Percy.

Plague Knight nearly tripped over himself as his lower half reacted before his upper half and tried to change directions. 

“Hee!! What is HE doing here?!” he squawked furiously as he stumbled to a halt before them. 

Percy was leaning heavily into Mona and clutching his stomach. There was a pained look on his long, brown face, but he tried to smile when Plague Knight approached.

“Ah! Haha… My dear sir! Hello, again! How long has it been, aha… a-a year..? My, you’ve really… ugh… spruced this place up, h-haven’t you?”

“Hush,” said Mona, firmly, “Don’t talk.”

Plague Knight looked up at her, waiting for an explanation.

“Percy’s sick,” she said, with a small sigh, “In case you haven’t noticed.”

“No, I’m fine, really– agh… I just h-have a touch of colic, that’s all… It’s common in us Equines! I’ll be fine… ghh…” 

“Not if you don’t get it checked,” replied Mona, testily. She glanced back at Plague Knight, an apologetic look on her face, “I didn’t really know what else to do, so… Um. Can you help him..?”

Plague Knight clenched his jaw, but quickly beckoned the two towards him. He lead them down the halls to the room he usually treated other minions in. At the moment, there were no recovering minions in any of the makeshift cots, so Percy had his pick. Percy simply collapsed into the nearest one, causing it to groan. 

Plague Knight tugged Mona away from him.

“Why did you bring him here, hee?!”

“To get his colic looked at,” replied Mona, scowling.

“Yes, but why HERE? There’s a healer in The Village and at the Armour Outpost– why didn’t you take him there?!”

Mona’s eyes widened slightly, and her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of turquoise before her scowl deepened and she looked away, petulantly, “I… D-didn’t think of them. I-it doesn’t matter! Just– you’ll help him, won’t you?”

“He broke my leg! HEE! He nearly shattered my spine!”

“Look, I don’t like him much, either– and I’ve had to put up with him for the last year– but we can’t just let him die. You know colic can be fatal to Equines, right?”

Plague Knight folded his arms, “Nobody will really… miss him, will they? I mean… heh. He’s not very good at what he does–“

“PLAGUE KNIGHT.”

“Alright, alright!! FINE. I’ll look at him.”

Plague Knight stomped back over to Percy’s cot.

“Hello, Percy,” he spat, “Why the long face? Heehee…”

“Oh, well, ghh– as I said, I have a little bit of––“

“Yes, yes, colic. I know. I was making a joke. Take off your stupid tunic and let’s see the damage.”

Percy shimmied fitfully out of his tunic and allowed Plague Knight to probe his fuzzy brown abdomen. Plague Knight carefully prodded the length of his stomach area, feeling around and listening for any yelps from Percy.

“What have you been eating, recently, Percy?” he snapped as Percy gave a whinny of pain.

“Just– Mostly hay! I’ve been busy, and it’s easy to snack on, you see–“

“Have you been hydrating properly?”

“W-well–“

Plague Knight stood back and tapped his beak, thoughtfully. 

“…From what I can tell, you seem to have an impaction in the pelvic flexure. That’s a sharp bend in the intestine. You know– the big long tube-y thingy where all your food goes after you eat it,” he explained in a mocking, child-like tone, “Something’s stuck in there and everything’s getting backed up.”

“O-oh, I see…” mumbled Percy, meekly.

“And the cure for it is..?” Mona chimed in, expectantly. 

“…Um. Possibly surgery,” replied Plague Knight, suddenly rather subdued, “Which is, eheh… not my forte.”

He was fine with cleaning and suturing wounds, but actually cutting into the body and poking around inside it? He’d only ever done so on dead things. He wasn’t confident that he could make a proper incision, find the blockage, remove it, mend it and keep Percy alive all at the same time.

“…But not necessarily!” he added, quickly, “We might just need to do a little… plumbing…”

 

Several minutes later, Plague Knight and Mona were set up next to a small cauldron. They’d left Percy to rest in his cot, and were making the preparations to create a possible antidote to his condition. 

“Heh. Alright. I know healing alchemy isn’t really your thing,” said Plague Knight, tracing a circle around the cauldron with a stick of charcoal, “But I could use another head on this one.”

“I’m not bothered. The sooner this is over, the sooner w… um. It’s over,” said Mona, tugging on a pair of gloves Plague Knight had loaned her. 

“What we want to produce,” continued Plague Knight, “Is something that is gentle enough to pass safely through Percy’s digestive system, but strong enough to clear out that blockage… I’m thinking antimony would make a good base. It’s a strong cathartic, after all, heehee.”

“We’re… basically making a high grade laxative, aren’t we,” said Mona, flatly. 

Plague Knight drummed his fingers awkwardly on the table, “Well… Hee, when you put it that way…”

This certainly wasn’t what he’d pictured himself doing with Mona on her next visit. Performing her least favourite aspect of alchemy, to an end that was quite mundane and rather crude seemed like a disastrous reunion. But there was a small smirk on Mona’s face, and she didn’t seem to be too upset, so Plague Knight put his worries out of his head and focused on the coming task. She was right; the sooner it was over, the sooner… it was over.

The pair of alchemists fused several different ingredients together. It was mainly oils, and a liquid or two to keep it from becoming too viscous. In a few hours time, they’d produced several little bottles of differently coloured solution. Most were brownish or yellowish, strong-smelling, and none of them looked appetizing. 

“Right,” said Plague Knight, “These are some promising looking candidates… Would you summon me a spoon, Mona, heehee?”

“Wait,” Mona frowned at the various bottles, “Shouldn’t we test them, first? I mean. To make sure none of them are dangerous…”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re fine,” said Plague Knight dismissively, “We just have to see which one clears the pipes properly, as it were.”

“But we have to test them,” said Mona, “Otherwise, it’s not scientific.”

She had him there. He scowled, but quickly perked up a moment later as he remembered that he had the perfect guinea pig languishing in the dungeons at this very moment. 

“Oh Mona! Always so thorough. So by the book... heehee!” he brushed off his hands and ambled around the table, “Very well! Summon that spoon… We’re about to test some laxatives.”

 

Twenty-two looked miserable as a pair of minions marched him into the room. He stared at Plague Knight with trepidation. 

“W-what are you gonna do to me..?” he whimpered.

“Heehee! Nothing horrific,” said Plague Knight, giggling ominously, “All you have to do is take a few teaspoons of these little concoctions… and then you’re forgiven and free to return to your post. How does that sound?”

Twenty-two eyed the bottles apprehensively. 

“A-a-are they poison..?”

“Poison? What do you take me for, hee?!” squawked Plague Knight, “What good would you be to me dead? Now, open that mouth. Mona, the spoon, please…”

 

Twenty-two did not in fact die, which was something to be grateful for. He didn’t have much else, however, as the hours wore on. The results of the laxatives were not comfortable or dignified in any way, shape, or form, and since time was of the essence, Twenty-two was not allowed many breaks to collect himself. The sheer, clinical seriousness of the procedure did a little to help salvage the poor minion’s dignity, but there really was no way to come out of it looking good. Or feeling good, for that matter. Some of the substances burned as they went down, while others burned as they came out. Some caused intense cramps, while others caused a complete loss of muscle control. All of them tasted awful.  
When the testing was finally over, a very sore and morose Twenty-two was sent away to clean out the chamber pot he’d occupied for the last few torturous hours. Plague Knight waved after him, blithely.  
Mona stared, shaking her head.

“You’re Machiavellian,” she muttered, as she watched the poor minion slink off.

“Oh, stop it,” Plague Knight replied playfully, before glancing amongst the laxatives and choosing the one they’d marked most effective. 

He then marched back to Percy’s room, cleaned off the spoon and poured a new dose into it.

“A few spoonfuls of this should have you right as rain. Oh, and, um… You’ll want to break out the bedpan, heehee.”

Plague Knight left Percy to his recovery after he administered the concoction, instructing the Equine to ring a nearby service bell should anything less-than-optimal befall him. He returned to the cauldron and began cleaning up. Mona joined him, quietly. Plague Knight realized, then, that with Percy busy and on the mend, he had time to actually interact with her. He perked up and quickly cast around for something to talk about.

“So… Heh. Welcome back to the Explodatorium…”

“Good to see it hasn’t, uh… exploded in by absence,” she replied, dully.

Plague Knight heaved the small cauldron to the wash station and dumped the failed laxatives into the waste vats, “Was the trip up, uh, smooth?”

“It was a bit tricky with Percy being how he was. I was worried the impact might make it worse.”

Plague Knight narrowed his eyes under his mask. Bad choice of topic. He didn’t want to talk about Percy.

“Uhhh, ahah, quite. Well, how have you been, Mona? Busy, I take it..?”

“Oh, yes. Very. You got my letter, right?”

“I did! And your little… present. What was that, by the way?”

Mona puckered her lips a little, turning blueish again.

“Um… Actually, it was supposed to be a longterm stabilizer. To help with your… Uh, anyway. …Medical alchemy isn’t… Well, I mean, you know it isn’t really my thing. But I just thought…” 

Plague Knight’s heart fluttered a little. On one hand, he felt rather crestfallen; did she really think him so weak that she needed to care for him like he was some kind of invalid? Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted his disability to her back at the Plains… On the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm at the thought that she was thinking about his safety. She… cared about his wellbeing. It was quite a foreign feeling indeed, to have someone actually worry about him. And the brew had seemed to have at least some kind of effect on his constitution. 

“So, uh, did it work?” Mona asked, tugging Plague Knight out of his thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh. Heehee! I don’t know! I’m not sure what it was meant to do, exactly.”

“…Neither am I. …I mean. It’s meant to uh… to strengthen you and… make you feel… good..?” 

Plague Knight bit back a chuckle at Mona’s indecisiveness. But it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to have difficulty explaining something. 

“Well, it felt… warm.”

Mona nodded, “Any weird side effects?”

Plague Knight shook his head, “A momentary hiccup in motor controls, but otherwise, no. In fact, I woke up the next day feeling rather comfortable. Maybe it’s doing… whatever you made it to do.”

“Well… It still needs iteration. I’m just glad it didn’t poison you…”

“You did test it, right?” 

“Uh… Kind of…”

“Mona! You hypocrite!”

Plague Knight laughed as Mona blushed and folded her arms, “I did test it! I did! I just don’t know your humours as well as I wan– A-as well as I–– I don’t––“

She was spiralling again, as she always did when she was flustered. Plague Knight bit back further chuckles and decided to spare her.

“Heehee–– Heh, well. What else have you been working on, then?”

Mona ran a hand through her hair, recovering herself, then not-smiled slightly.

“Some little surprises. You’re not allowed to know, yet.”

“Oh, Mona, don’t keep me in suspense! You know me, heehee! I’m impatient!”

“Too bad. You’ll just have to wait until they’re done.”

“Oh, give me something, at least! Just a little hint? An itty-bitty tiny clue?”

Mona’s eyes lit up suddenly, as if she’d remembered something. The blue hue in her cheeks faded back in, and she seemed to be debating on something Plague Knight couldn’t fathom. A moment later, it seemed she’d come to a verdict, as she put down the cloth she’d been using to scrub the circle off the table and approached Plague Knight.

“Well. I’m still keeping mum on projects one and two. But there is one thing I was working on that I can show you. Actually, I’ve… been meaning to ask your opinion on it. I just didn’t think we’d see each other so soon…”

Plague Knight cocked his head, curiously.

“Oh? What is it?”

Mona took a small, deep breath and closed her eyes. Then she stooped and picked up the ends of her shiny, plum-coloured skirts. With a flourish, she tossed them around her, sending the material billowing through the air.   
What she did, Plague Knight was certain, was magic. It was so fast that he could barely see the change happen. One moment, Mona was wearing the dark purple gown she’d worn during her previous visit, the next…

The effect was a little disorienting. Colours and patterns and contours hit Plague Knight’s eyes like a flashbang. Mona was suddenly sporting an intricate garment of many complicated layers. The upper part of it consisted of some sort of vest with long, clinging sleeves. The main body of it was pitch black and shiny like her dress, with two teal-coloured strips running the length of her ribs, adorned with some sort of complicated braid pattern. Thick, black gloves with flared ends and teal stitching protected her hands, and a long, iridescent cape was draped elegantly over her shoulders, fastened at the neckline by her blue jewel. Her skirts appeared to be the same ones she’d been wearing earlier, only they were now accompanied by something resembling thick, black coattails, decorated at both ends with the same tealish braided pattern as the vest.

All in all, it was really rather wondrous to behold.

“You… haha… m-made that..?” croaked Plague Knight, his words a little impeded by a sudden swelling sensation in his tongue.

“Thought I could use something a little hardier,” she replied, proudly, “For the more dangerous projects. It’s all state-of-the-art. I took a few cues from your minion uniforms. It’s all vitriol and fire-proofed, tear-resistant, and padded to keep me safe no matter how badly I screw up an experiment. …Not that I would, necessarily, but…”

Mona turned this way and that, showing off every angle of the little masterpiece in haberdashery. She paused a moment as she turned away from him and looked over her shoulder, eyes lidded.

“Uh… So. What do you… think?”

Plague Knight tried to respond, but his brain didn’t seem to want to follow his orders. It was cooking under a new wave of mysterious heat that had suddenly overwhelmed him. The tingling sensation was back again as well, accompanied by heart palpitations, and his knees seemed to be ready to give out at any second. Panic quickly shoved its way past the pea soup clogging his cranium and made everything worse. What on earth was happening to him? He felt like he’d just catapulted straight into the latter stages of the flu. Fever, shakes, increased heart rate, weakness, dry-mouth… It was all so sudden, and yet, the previous episode had been sudden, as well. Had he contracted some kind of hitherto undiscovered disease?   
He would have to look into it right away. But first, he had to pretend everything was alright for Mona. She already thought him weak; he didn’t want her fussing over him even more.

“Ughm. Ahhh,” Plague Knight swallowed dryly, trying to regain control of his language centre.

Mona had turned around, now, and was peering at him expectantly. Her eyebrows knit in uncertain consternation as he failed to speak.

“Is it… Too much..?”

“Nggno,” Plague Knight choked out, “It’s ah… heehee… ahh…”

“My allies! Hello! Can you hear me?”

Percy’s deep voice drifted in from the other room, and Plague Knight had never felt so overjoyed to hear it.

“Ha! Heehee! Percy’s better! Let’s go… see him! Haha…”

Mona nodded, “Right. Okay…”

Plague Knight quickly scampered away from her, nearly tripping over his own feet. He did his best to hide the sweat stains quickly growing on his cloak and used the momentum of his run to cool his burning body. Percy. Focus on Percy. He might still be ill. He needed Plague Knight’s genius and expertise to pull him through this– he couldn’t fall ill himself. 

 

In the next room, Percy was sitting up on his bed, looking much more cheerful. The stench was a little unbearable, but Plague Knight welcomed it as another thing to distract him from his sudden onset of worrying symptoms. 

“Heh… Smells like my little brew worked, heehee!” called Plague Knight, in amusement. 

Percy smiled a wobbly, embarrassed smile, “Aha… Erm, yes! Marvellous stuff! Could stand a little flavouring, though… Ah, anyway! Mona! Did you… tell him?”

Plague Knight glanced back at Mona in confusion, then hurriedly glanced away.

“Oh. No, I forgot. Sorry Percy,” said Mona, listlessly. 

Plague Knight heard her shift towards him, “Percy actually wanted to come up here and talk to you. He’s got an idea he thinks you can pull off with alchemy.”

Plague Knight squinted at Percy, “Oh? Heehee, and what idea is this?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked!” cried Percy, excitedly, “I had the most glorious vision, while I was working on some tricky calculations! You see, a spider let itself down upon my pages, and I was quite frightened!”

Plague Knight snickered.

“Once I’d stamped the beast out, I realized how effective they are at intimidation, despite their tiny size and relative harmlessness! So, I thought… what if they weren’t so small? Or harmless? And what if they lobbed bombs everywhere? Does that not sound like something that belongs here, guarding your hallowed halls? After all, Mona was just telling me how…” 

Plague Knight let Percy ramble on, mulling over his little proposal. He had to admit, the idea was right up his alley. The cogs in his brain were already kicking into high gear, trying to puzzle out how he would create such a creature.

“…and so I hastened up here immediately! And Mona seemed quite cheerful to tag along.”

Mona shuffled a bit from behind Plague Knight as Percy ended his blathering.

“Yeah. Anyway. What do you think, Plague Knight?” she asked, sounding rather subdued.

“I think… it’s certainly worth a try, heehee!”

“Marvellous! I’ll go get some papers!” Percy sprang up and bounded out the door before either alchemist could stop him. A few moments later, his voice drifted back into the room.

“…Incidentally, where do you keep your papers, my good man?”

 

Plague Knight had to make his evening rounds before they could continue, but once he was finished, he, Percy and Mona gathered in one of the smaller labs. Percy was already scribbling down blueprints, though Plague Knight knew these would be useless. Percy was a mathematician, not an alchemist. He had little idea of what actually went into the process. Mona was far more helpful.

“This won’t be easy if we go at it from a biological standpoint,” said Mona, ruefully, summoning her notebook and quill, “So I think we should go about it like we would a Slimulacrum. A construct with a rudimentary brain.”

Plague Knight wanted to tease her about leaning more towards her specialty, but his symptoms were acting up again. He swallowed thickly and let out a wheezy chuckle, before nodding.

“Heh, c-construct it is, heehee!”

Mona sketched up pictures of spider-shaped machines, while Percy noted down the ballistic formulae for its eventual bomb-throwing capacities. Plague Knight did his best to gather materials and begin the alchemical process, but he found himself in a bit of a fog. His eyes kept drifting over to Mona, fixating on the details of her dress. Whatever this new illness of his was, it seemed to really like patterns and curves. 

“Oh– Damn––“ 

Plague Knight fumbled with a beaker he’d been carrying. He’d put it down on the edge of the table, causing it to tip off and almost tumble to the ground. Mona’s hand darted out and caught it, just as he did the same. For a moment, they stood in complete silence, holding the bottle together. Plague Knight felt like he was having a small heart attack.  
Mona quickly withdrew her hand and folded her arms, pouting. 

“What’s the matter with you, Plague Knight?” she asked, turquoise creeping up the sides of her soft, round face, “You’ve been spacey for a while now. That’s the third beaker you almost smashed. …Are you feeling okay?” 

Plague Knight passed the beaker jerkily from hand to hand, sweat beading on his forehead under his mask.

“Heehee– Yes! I’m fine, j-just fine,” he couldn’t tell her he was coming down with something. He really didn’t want her to fuss… “Uhh… W-w-what’s that little sketch you’ve made there? Heh… Heh…”

Mona leaned over to show him the final diagram she’d drawn. A bulbous, arachnid-like creature with several piston-powered legs. Its body was a cauldron full of liquid, and its head was a container for the controller brain they would insert. Mona explained that rather than bombs, it would fire off arcing globs of heated liquid, thereby saving all sorts of resources while being just as effective at keeping out intruders. Percy chimed in with his equations for the liquid arcs. Plague Knight did his best to listen. He was about to have to build the thing, after all.

“Heehee, excellent! Let’s get cracking,” he cried as they finished speaking, hitching a bit of his usual bravado back into his voice.

The going was still rather tough, though; due to the nature of the thing’s construction, Plague Knight had to work closely with Mona. This meant he had to work extra hard to hide his symptoms from her. She seemed not to notice his stuttering and sweating, or if she did, she wasn’t saying anything about it.   
It was quite late when the trio finalized their prototype. Mona carefully placed the controller brain -a small collection of mouse bones- inside its head and placed it gently on the ground. The contraption shook itself, then stood up on its many spindly legs.

“It works!” cried Percy, ecstatically, giving a triumphant little kick, “Oh! How marvellous! Is this the true power of alchemy?!”

“Some of it,” said Mona, nudging the creature with her foot. 

It began to march along, the liquid in its transparent body sloshing noisily. After a few moments, globs of the liquid began firing out of it at regular intervals, hitting the ground with loud hisses. 

Percy pawed excitedly at the flagstones as the little contraption proceeded on its rounds. Plague Knight had to admit watching it waddle back and forth was quite amusing. If he set it up somewhere high, it could rain down liquid danger on his enemies… literally.   
Mona gave a satisfied little huff and folded her arms.

“Another successful procedure. Wouldn’t you say, Plague Knight?” 

“Oh? Ahah… Yes! Absolutely! Heeheehee!”

 

By the time they’d deactivated the contraption -christened a Ketteleg by Mona and Percy- and cleaned up their station, it was quite late indeed.

“Phew, I’m ready to hit the hay!” cried Percy, swiping a hoof across his forehead, “Shall we be heading home, Mona?”

Plague Knight glanced at his partner. As little as he wanted her to go, it might be best what with his sudden illness. At the moment, it seemed to have dulled to something of a throbbing ache in the pit of his stomach, but who knew when it would flare up again?   
Mona, however, was looking rather reluctant.

“Uh… It’s pretty late,” she said, uncertainly, “It’ll take us a while to get back to the Armour Outpost… They probably won’t even let us into the Anvil to take the catapult back…”

“Why, Mona, you know there’s no curfew on the ca–” Percy started speaking before she quickly interrupted him.

“I’m sure we can just stay the night. If it’s not too inconvenient. …Uh, is it, Plague Knight..?”

Plague Knight peered up at Mona, who was looking at him sideways with a hesitant expression in her bottle green eyes, her head tilted slightly to one side.

“Ah… No! No trouble at all, heehee,” he replied after a few moments of calculation, “I’ll just have the minions set up some sleeping quarters for you…”

“Oh! That sounds wonderful! Thank you, my friend!” cried Percy, amiably. 

Mona’s eyes softened into a not-smile and she relaxed, smoothing down her intricate skirts.  
Plague Knight, true to his word, dropped Mona and Percy off with a group of minions, then scuttled back to his lab. He took a quick stop by his ‘library’; a carefully prepared room where he stored all of the alchemical books he ordered in. Here he scooped up several medical books, which he stacked on the table near his cot and cracked open, feverishly.  
Bertram squeaked from his cage, and Plague Knight cast around for a piece of food to quieten him with. After poking a bit of bread through the bars, Plague Knight lit a lamp and flipped through his tome, running his finger down lists of symptoms. 

“Let’s see… Heat… Shakes… Palpitations… Hmm…”

He read long into the night, barely noticing as the colour of the sky changed outside his chamber windows.


	9. A Cargo of Fineries

When Plague Knight finally looked up from his books, it was morning. He frowned, stretched noisily, and tucked his medical tomes away. Then he crept out of his cot and mixed himself a fresh batch of vitamin supplements, with extra helpings of fever-warding ingredients. He hadn’t yet positively identified his symptoms, but this was no relief. The likelihood of his ailment being some kind of new or foreign infection was growing by the hour.  
He took a little heart that, despite his lack of sleep, he seemed to be feeling much better this morning. Then again, the disease always seemed to strike suddenly and fade away…  
He put it out of his head for the moment. He had to go find Mona and Percy and start the day’s rounds.

He changed his robes, tucked his staff into his belt and hopped the last few rungs of the trapdoor ladder. He made his way first towards the basement, where the piping was being laid. Minions were already trooping in and wading through the swift streams of water, trying not to get pushed back or carried away. Plague Knight perched himself on a platform out of the way of the little rivers and made sure his workers were suitably busy, before climbing back up to the main floors and going to check on his other groups.  
The health potion brewery seemed to be in good condition, even with Twenty-two’s return, and the purification station seemed to be functioning satisfactorily as well. Burst practice was to start later in the day, so he didn’t have to worry about that, yet.  
The last place to visit was the commissions lab. It was a large room, and it was staffed by the minions Plague Knight found most scientifically minded. He could leave these people with a recipe book of the common alchemical constructs most villagers wanted, and trust that they could usually produce the required result without too many mistakes.  
Approaching now, however, Plague Knight heard voices echoing down the hall.

“So, um, you see, we don’t really know what to do, and we’re a little worried about asking the Boss…”

“Don’t bother. I’ll take care of it. You just watch closely, alright?” 

“Y-yes ma’am!”

Plague Knight peeked around the corner of the large stone archway leading into the lab, and saw a group of minions gathered around a table. Mona was standing amongst them, dressed in her lab fineries again. She was drawing a circle and placing a small pot in the middle.

“…I don’t know that much about plants, but from what you said, the customer wants some way to make her crops grow extra fast, right? Even without the specifics, we can hypothesize that a suitable effect can be produced by making it so that a fertilizer becomes easily absorbed into the flesh of the plant, and for its effects to be multiplied. I can show you how to increase something’s osmosis factor, as well as its potency, and then I’m sure you can recreate the effects on a fertilizer once you find some. Of course, you’ll have to test it, but this ought to help for now…”

“G-gosh, ma’am, we can’t thank you enough!”

“Hmm… Don’t mention it…”

Plague Knight watched Mona smirk as she mixed liquids and sprinkled powders. A wicked little cackle as her brew frothed made Plague Knight’s stomach do a somersault. He realized then that standing in the doorway staring was a tad more than creepy, and he quickly straightened up and prepared to make a proper entrance. He waited until she seemed to be finishing her experiment, so as not to startle her, then rounded the corner with one of his usual giggles.

“Hee! Good morning, all!” he called, causing the minions to flinch and scuttle guiltily around the back of the table, “How are you all, heh, getting on? …Ah, Mona! There you are, heehee! I’ve been looking for you…”

He tried to make the last part sound casual and natural, as if he really had only just stumbled upon her. Mona languidly packed away sacks and envelopes of ingredients.

“Morning, Plague Knight,” she called, in a bored monotone, “Just catching up with some of my recruits.”

The minions all nodded quickly, and a few began helping Mona clear away her mess. She let them finish up and ambled leisurely over to her partner, her shimmering cape fluttering elegantly behind her. That new outfit sure was something. It accentuated her unnatural height and made her look quite intimidating, as well as… Well. Plague Knight took a moment to register that it made her look really quite pretty. He wasn’t used to taking appearances into account for anything more than sizing up an opponent or stating an objective fact, but this time felt a little different.  
Plague Knight tried to remember what he was going to say before this startling new revelation, and failed spectacularly. 

“Heh. Good morning,” he said, instead.

“You already said that,” Mona replied, flatly.

“I said it to the minions! Now I’m saying it to you, heehee.”

Mona shrugged, and a flicker of a not-smile passed through her eyes.

“Did you eat?” asked Plague Knight.

“Yeah. Met up with the day crew and shared breakfast.”

Plague Knight nodded, before wincing. He had just realized that their Equine guest was nowhere to be seen, and he hated the idea of that Horse running amok in his lab.

“Where’s Percy?” he asked, sharply. 

A shadow of guilt passed over Mona as he spoke, and her cheeks darkened. She turned away a little, flicking her gaze to the wall and tugging at the fingers of her gloves. 

“…He went home early,” she mumbled, shiftily.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Plague Knight asked, hopefully, noting Mona’s suspicious behaviour. 

Mona flinched, and the back of her hand leapt to her mouth to stifle a sudden gurgle of laughter at the outlandish suggestion.

“W-what? No… He just went back before I did! What, is that so hard to believe?”

“Heehee, far be it for me to mistrust my partner… but you do seem a little evasive…” 

Mona’s cheeks darkened further, and she rested her fist on her mouth, still not meeting the eyeholes of his mask.

“I’m not. …He really is back at The Village… Or rather, the Armour Outpost, at this point. Look, I just– He just thought he should be getting back now that he’s all patched up, you… you know..?”

Plague Knight wasn’t sure what she was trying to hide from him, but if it had to do with Percy, he could let it slide. So long as the idiot Equine wasn’t meddling in his affairs, he didn’t particularly care. 

“Well, I have to be getting back to my lab… care to tag along?” asked Plague Knight, before realizing that Mona had to leave as well and sagging in disappointment, “Or… ah. You’ll be wanting to get back to The Village before the day wares on, heh… Never mind.”

Mona gently lowered her fist from her lips and tucked it behind her back, along with her other hand. Her eyes remained fixed on the wall and she bobbed a little, hesitantly. 

“…Well. I don’t have to get back right away. I could stay and see what you’re working on… I mean, if you want. …Whatever.”

Plague Knight perked up, “Oh, I was just going to decide just that! You can help me choose, heehee!”

Mona smirked, “Lead on, then.”

 

Plague Knight took Mona up to his makeshift lab in the northeastern tower and scuttled to one of his tables to flip through his stacks of to-do papers. Mona sauntered slowly after him, looking around the tower room.  
A few moments later he heard her let out a little breath of surprise. 

“Oh, hey! Who’s this..?”

Plague Knight turned to find her leaning over Bertram’s cage, peering down at the little rodent inside, who was squeaking loudly.  
Plague Knight hastened over and dug into the sack of leftovers he kept nearby to hush the little creature.

“Heh, oh, I… This is Bertram, I just adopted–“

“Bertram?”

“…Yes! Heh… I rather like the name, you know. Why do you think I chose it back at the Academy?”

Mona smirked as she watched Plague Knight snap the end off a carrot and turn towards the cage.

“Can I feed him?” she asked.

Plague Knight blinked in surprise, then nodded hesitantly, “Oh, uh, sure.”

Plague Knight handed her the bit of carrot, and Mona carefully poked it through the bars. Bertram eyed her before scuttling up and grabbing the carrot chunk with his tiny little paws. Mona’s smirk became a grin as she knelt properly to watch the rat gnaw away at the orange root vegetable.

“Oh look at that..! He’s got tiny little hands! That’s… adorable,” she cleared her throat and puckered her lips, looking embarrassed again. 

“Heehee, yes… Rats are rather sweet when they’re not being a nuisance,” Plague Knight agreed, watching Bertram as well.

“Why’s he green?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ve been experimenting on the infestation here. A little pinch of this, a little dab of that, and now every single one of them can–“

“Explode, right?” Mona interrupted, the corner of her lips twitching in amusement.

“You read my mind!”

 

They fed Bertram a little more carrot before Plague Knight returned to his stack of papers. He flipped over each page, showing it to Mona and gauging her reaction. Eventually, they came to one page with a few stains on it– it seemed he’d scribbled it down in the middle of the night or when he’d been busy working on something. Despite the odd blue tinge, the page was still legible in Plague Knight’s scratchy handwriting. 

“…Slimulacra..?” murmured Mona, staring at the page.

“Oh, er–“ Plague Knight remembered the one Mona had kept as something of a pet-slash-assistant at the Academy and his heroic sacrifice… No wonder she looked so crestfallen, “Erm, heh, just a little idea. Back when I didn’t have the rats or that little spider-trooper you just added to my front lines, I was thinking about ways to protect the castle in case of attack…” 

Mona stared at the page a moment longer, before placing it down on the table, “Well, one can never have enough protection. Let’s build them.”

Plague Knight cocked his head, “Really?”

“Yeah. …What? Do you think I’m still sore about… Slimon?” 

Her voice was completely flat as she spoke, but he could see a glitter of hurt in her eyes. His fingers jumped together, tapping nervously.

“Erm, heh, well, uhhhh…”

“Well, I… I-I am. A-a little… But I don’t want that to get in the way of a possible asset,” she crossed her arms against her tummy, looking away again, “Besides, I dunno how to make Slimulacra slime, and that would be a good thing to figure out, don’t… don’t you think?”

Plague Knight nodded, hoping the awkwardness would pass once they were at work, “Haha! Of course– W-why don’t we go down to one of the larger labs? Heh, we can stop by the library and find a recipe…”

Mona perked up, “The library? You’ve got a library here?”

“Oh, did I forget to show you on the tour? I’ve been importing alchemical texts from all over the place. There should be a guide on how to build Slimulacra there.” 

Mona nodded, “Great. Let’s go.”

 

The ‘library’ was really just a well-kept room with stacks and stacks of alphabetized books. That was technically the bare definition of a library, but when Plague Knight pictured them, he always saw beautiful, vaulted ceilings and long stretches of shelves, almost like the pews of a church. Libraries were few and far between, and they were temples to knowledge. It seemed wrong not to add a certain solemn splendour to the place, but Plague Knight hadn’t really had the time to set it up. He planned on changing this when the main renovations were completed.

After rummaging through the lovingly sorted stacks of books, the two alchemists found the recipe they were looking for and stopped off at the supply storeroom next. The ingredients consisted of several types of gum, oils, lye and some instances of vitriol. These were easily found in the supply storeroom, and then it was off to the lab to begin cooking. 

“This is great,” said Mona, pushing an enormous stirring paddle around their cauldron as the contents thickened, “It looks so gross.”

“Heh, do you like gross?” asked Plague Knight, raising an eyebrow in amusement. 

“…Depends on the gross,” replied Mona, nonchalantly. 

Plague Knight was lucky he had her with him today. He wasn’t tall or strong enough to stir the goo the way she could. 

“What shape should we make them?” Mona asked, continuing her round, laborious movements, “Once this sets?”

“Hmm… Perhaps they don’t need a specific shape,” Plague Knight suggested, “Heehee– Wouldn’t it be funny if they shape-shifted into whatever foe they’re up against? Fighting yourself– insult to injury, heeheehahaha!”

Mona grinned, villainously, “Ooh, that’s brilliant. But complicated… We’re going to need some high-grade cores for these.” 

“Worry not, partner mine,” replied Plague Knight, poking his beak skyward, proudly, “I’m not the greatest alchemist in the land for nothing, you know.”

“Firstly, that isn’t true,” said Mona, “I’m at least as good as you are. Secondly, we’re the only alchemists in the land. Not much of an impressive achievement, I’d say.” 

“True, true,” Plague Knight conceded, “Clever, clever Mona! Never misses a beat.” 

Mona chuckled, quietly, before pulling her paddle out of the cauldron and contentedly watching greenish goo dribble viscously off of it. The sparkle in her eyes faded as she continued to stare, and Plague Knight quickly cast around for something to distract her with. 

“Ahaha… Well! Speaking of cores, I think I know something we could use for now…”

 

Down in the sewers, Plague Knight stumbled around in the swift running currents, looking for the perfect core ingredient. Cores provided the ‘brains’ of the Slimulacra, and the more important the base, the smarter they would be. Eventually, he straightened up and sloshed around with a full human skull in his hands.

“Heehee! The basement is full of undead detritus! We can make a test core out of these, and pick up some fresh organs later!”

Mona, who was standing on a platform away from the water, chuckled a little as she watched him splash around.

“Get out of there before you get swept away,” she called, holding out her gloved hand, “And maybe take a bath.”

“Always with the baths! You’re obsessed, heehee!” cried Plague Knight, nevertheless accepting her proferred hand and climbing out of the current.

For the first time, Plague Knight noted a tint in her cheeks at the mention of her favourite joke. He grinned behind his mask. Finally! Whatever glorious conditions were acting upon her today, it meant that he could finally tease her back about the bath jokes.

“Baths on the brain!” he crowed, tucking the skull under his arm, “Day and night!”

“Oh please,” grumbled Mona, “I’ve talked to you about baths maybe three times over the last two years. Stop blowing things out of proportion.”

“Oh, you know me, Mona! I love blowing things out of proportion… or just up, heeheehee!”

Mona let go of his hand and folded her arms, haughtily. Plague Knight felt a peculiar twinge of disappointment as she did so.

“So, what kind of bath should I take?” he continued, “Dust? Mud? Sponge?”

“Ugh.”

“You’re the expert, heehee! Go on! What is your grand vision?!”

“My vision?” Mona turned to look at him, incredulously, “You’re seriously insinuating I picture you bathing?!”

Plague Knight felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. In his haste to tease her, he’d completely neglected to listen to himself. They stared at each other for a few moments in complete silence, and Plague Knight was sure he was as red in the face as she was blue.  
He made a little strangled noise in the back of his throat, desperately trying to recover himself.  
To his utter relief, Mona finally rolled her eyes and cupped her face in one hand, snickering exasperatedly.

“D-do you ever think about what comes out of that beak of yours?” she asked, frustration and fondness vying for volume in her voice. 

“H…haha! Heehee! G…guess not!” Plague Knight stammered, before bursting out laughing. 

It was more out of embarrassment and relief than mirth. His heart was beating against his ribs like a moth against a windowpane. 

 

He managed to calm down by the time they’d returned to the lab, and began priming the skull to become a core. The usual application of powders and mercury did the trick, and soon Mona was scooping a large dollop of slime into a tray in the middle of an alchemical circle.

“Ready?” asked Mona, “You’re filthy enough already so putting the core in won’t make much of a difference.” 

Plague Knight stuck his tongue out at her from under his mask, then carefully leaned over the edge of the circle and pushed the skull into the pile of goo. A few seconds later, the slime shivered, then rose into a formless mass. Mona inhaled, sharply. Plague Knight stood back.

“Can you hear me?” he asked, clearly.

The slime swayed back and forth. 

“Come here.”

The slime spilled over the edge of the tray and oozed across the floor to approach Plague Knight.

“Heehee! Good. Now… I’d like you to take on my form, if you will…”

The slime hesitated. Plague Knight frowned.

“Copy me,” he said, waving at himself, “Resemble my form! Your form… my form… Go on!”

The Slimulacrum gingerly rose up higher, and shaped itself into a fair silhouette of the alchemist before it. It had the pointy face and the general stature, but it wasn’t smart enough to discern specific details. What were supposed to be Plague Knight’s trailing sleeves were just flaps of slime extending from the body, and no distinction between the hood and the mask could be seen.

“Hmm… Well. Nice try. Why don’t you do Mona instead?”

The Slimulacrum shuffled in confusion. Plague Knight sighed, “Hee, turn around…” 

It did so, and spied its new target. Remembering its orders, it stretched up, up, up, trying to copy Mona’s height. Unfortunately, she was far too tall for the Slimulacrum, which tottered and fell over, splashing viscously against the ground.

“Hrmgh. Not smart enough,” Plague Knight grumbled, stepping into the ruined circle and pulling the skull out of the struggling slime, causing it to collapse completely.

“Guess we’ll have to go find some fresh bio-material sooner than later…” said Mona, staring listlessly at the puddle of gunge. 

 

As luck would have it, the pair of alchemists happened to find some bio-material rather quickly, in the form of a rat carcass. These weren’t uncommon; the rat population was so numerous that deaths were inevitable. This was one of the common brown rats, rather than the explosive green kind.  
After carrying it back to the lab, Plague Knight placed it on the table and started drawing a circle. Mona stood next to him, preparing the mercury and powders. 

“A whole rat ought to make for a very clever core, heehee,” said Plague Knight, cheerfully.

“Well… Whole is debatable,” said Mona, eyeing the creature’s rather battered corpse.

“Most of its flesh seems to be intact. That’s good enough!”

Plague Knight was just about to lift the rat into the circle, when there was a shrill, croaking cry. Mona ducked frantically as a huge, black shape swooped down from overhead. Plague Knight threw himself to the floor, nearly avoiding the dive-bomb attack.

“Oh, BLAST!” he cried, sitting up quickly. 

“W-what was that?!” Mona hissed, eyes wide with shock.

“Macawbe,” Plague Knight sighed, scowling up at the vaulted ceiling. Sure enough, the black shape was returning to a flock of spectral birds, wreathed in purple haze. 

“This is my rat,” he shouted, “You hear me?! AWK! AWK AWK AWK!!”

His throat bobbed as he produced the same calls as the birds often made when they were fighting over carrion. Macawbes were exceedingly clever non-sapient creatures, and very difficult works of necromancy. Souls fused to the bones of their long-dead bodies, surrounded in a coating of purest black magic. Plague Knight often wondered why the necromancer who’d razed this castle had even bothered to create so many of them. It was surely taxing on his powers, and then he’d simply abandoned them here… Nevertheless, here they were, and they were often quite the nuisance. Plague Knight had had to learn to speak their language to prevent them praying on any of his rodent test subjects while they were out in the open.  
He was quite fluent, it seemed, as the flock of spectral birds shuffled in annoyance, but made no further moves to steal his little prize.

Plague Knight stood up and dusted off his poleyns. Mona followed him, glancing back and forth between the two avians.

“…You can talk to them?” 

“Heh. After a fashion. They’re smart, so I can’t just treat them like any old pest.”

“What did you say to them?”

“Just what I said. I told them it was my rat. My… well, not really my food, but that’s what they understand best.”

Mona shook her head, wonderingly.

“You should train them.”

“Eh?”

“If you can talk to them, and they’re smart… you should train them to do things around the lab,” Mona began to hesitate, folding her hands together uncertainly, ”I mean… erm, why not, right? Ah… It could be… useful…” 

Plague Knight ran his finger along the underside of his mask, thoughtfully. He’d never considered training the Macawbes, but now that he thought about it, Mona was right; they could be quite useful. 

“Heehee! Oh, Mona! Never misses a beat OR a trick… I can’t believe I never looked at it that way before…”

Mona straightened up, her eyes lighting with a not-smile, “Let’s finish up this core, then see what we can do with your fine feathery… well. I’m not sure if those are feathers, actually.” 

“Heh, they’re not.”

 

The mouse corpse worked much better as a core than the human skull. Despite the skull being from a more intelligent being, the rat’s body was full of organs, including a brain, and tissue cores tended to work better than bone ones. This time, the Slimulacrum was able to produce a satisfactory copy of Plague Knight, and a fair likeness of Mona. It was also intelligent enough to realize attempting to reach her height would overbalance it, and instead opted to form a close, if shorter duplicate. 

Pleased with this success, Plague Knight set the Slimulacrum off to patrol the entryway, carefully instructing it not to harm anyone dressed in minion clothing.  
After that, he returned to the new task at hand; training the Macawbes. 

“They could make useful couriers,” he said, peering up at the flock perched on one of his ornate raven gargoyles, “A quick way to send messages or objects throughout the Explodatorium without interrupting foot traffic or being impeded by obstacles.” 

“Don’t let Mail Minion hear you say that,” said Mona, smirking, “He’ll cry.”

Plague Knight snickered, “He’ll just have to get used to his new coworkers, heehee!”

Plague Knight decided that performing the training exercises outside would be best. It was important to see if the Macawbes would take to being trained before trying to teach them the winding halls of the Explodatorium. 

Plague Knight managed to get them outside by cawing that he had food for them. The spectral birds swooped greedily after him, and Plague Knight fairly had to run for his life to stop himself getting swarmed.  
Once they were outside, the Macawbes perched in a nearby dead tree, peering down expectantly. Plague Knight sidled over to Mona, who’d followed him, bringing the actual food he’d promised; several joints of meat, magically ‘borrowed’ from The Village. Plague Knight looked up at Mona.

“Right. Macawbes seem to learn by watching,” he said, “So I’m going to go bring you a flask, and you give me a piece of meat. We’ll see if they recognize the transaction and try to copy.”

Mona’s not-smile increased, “You really know what you’re doing, huh? Were you actually a veterinarian, back then?”

Plague Knight scoffed, “No! I just rather like animals, heehee. I finally have the time and resources to have them, is all.” 

Mona shrugged, then waited patiently for Plague Knight to make a show of running to the base of a tree, pretending to find his bottle of Sweet Vitriol, and then bringing it back to her. He handed her the bottle, then stood up straight. Mona summoned a knife and used it to cut a slice out of one of the joints of meat, then presented it to Plague Knight so that the Macawbes could see.

The Macawbes did not seem quite ready to play fair, however, as one of the bolder ones swooped down and tried to steal Plague Knight’s reward right out of his hands. Plague Knight retaliated by tossing a bomb just close enough to frighten the bird, causing it to wheel away with a sharp shriek.  
Mona also had to fend off the birds, as they noted the meat came from her and tried to steal straight from the source.  
Thankfully, several hours on, the Macawbes began to realize that the only way they’d get any of that delicious meat was to find something for Mona. The flock took flight as one and disappeared into the mountains behind the Explodatorium.  
When they returned, they brought several interesting items. Some had attempted to bring things similar to the shape of Plague Knight’s bottle; oddly formed pieces of wood, broken pottery and stones. Others focused more on the glint the bottle gave off, and came back with shiny objects; gems, coins and pieces of broken armour. 

By the time the afternoon sun was sitting high in the sky, the Macawbes were comfortably exchanging objects for treats, and the pair of alchemists had amassed quite the treasure trove of detritus. 

“Heehee, wow! Look at all this stuff!” cried Plague Knight, picking up an emerald stone and turning it over in his hands, “What clever little birds, heehee!”

“Yeah, they’re quite the little pack of thieves,” said Mona, affectionately. 

She’d become used to the birds swooping down on her by now, and had begun allowing them to perch properly on her wrist to feed them. She was just giving the last one its just reward now. She hesitated, then reached carefully up to stroke its velvety black head. The Macawbe turned its glowing purple eye to look at her, but allowed her to very gently pat it.

“Oh, wow. You were right. These are definitely not feathers,” she said, as her fingers sunk into the inky blackness of its body, “I think I’m touching its skull.”

“Heh, well, they are just bones underneath,” said Plague Knight, watching her pat the creatures carefully. He felt a slight twinge in the pit of his stomach, though he wasn’t sure why. 

The Macawbe nibbled at her fingers gently before cawing loudly and taking flight, ruffling her hair with the blast of air from its wings as it went.  
Mona held up her hands to show that she no longer had any food to give them, and Plague Knight did his best to translate.

“AWK! AWK! AWK!!”

The Macawbes shuffled, croaking in disappointment, before rising as one black and purple mob and returning to the Explodatorium.

“Heehee! Well, I’d say that was a resounding success!” said Plague Knight, brushing down his cloak and planting his hands on his hips, “We’ll just have to fine-tune their delivery methods and routes!”

Mona was kneeling amongst the pile of refuse on the ground. She’d summoned a chest from who-knows-where, and was sorting the useful items from the trash. Plague Knight soon came to join her, and when they were finished, they had a rather cute little treasure box assembled. Twenty-eight silver coins, two sapphire stones, two emerald stones, three gold pieces and twenty palm-sized, green coins of indistinct denomination.  
Mona packed up the box and tucked it under her arm, and Plague Knight scooped up some of the leftover metal objects to be melted down for later alchemical use. 

Once back inside, they returned to the lab they’d been working in. The cauldron full of slime was still in its place. Plague Knight quickly went to find a cover for it; they could use it later. Mona, meanwhile, had placed the chest on the table and was digging through it, a frown on her face.

“Heh, something the matter?” asked Plague Knight, placing a lid on the cauldron and approaching her.

“…Yeah. I’m curious about these,” she said, pulling out one of the large green coins and showing it to Plague Knight, “I’ve never seen currency like this before.”

Plague Knight hadn’t given it much thought outside, but he took the coin and turned it over, attempting to answer Mona’s question. It was about a quarter of an inch thick, with a single indented ring set into its flat sides, and absolutely no other markings. It was clearly meant to look like a coin, but it was of a kind that wouldn’t benefit them in any way. Plague Knight frowned and handed it back.

“I’ve never seen this type either, but I can tell you it’s a Cipher Coin.”

Mona cocked her head, “A what?”

“A Cipher Coin,” Plague Knight picked up one of the gold pieces and showed Mona the embossed head of a Griffoth on both sides, “As I’m sure you know already -having been rolling in them for most of your life- every piece of proper currency is minted with a marking that denotes where it’s from and or how much it’s worth.” 

Mona puckered her lips, slightly, “Yes, I know.”

“The engravings are made as complicated as possible so that only those with the right skills or the right stamps may produce viable coinage…” Plague Knight recalled one memorable heist where he’d tried to steal some. It hadn’t gone well, “Most scofflaws will attempt to mimic these intricate designs… Others are a little lazier. They use Cipher Coins instead.”

He placed the three gold coins on top of the Cipher Coin, “Cipher Coins are simply disks that are used to pad out sacks of money. Criminals put a layer actual currency on top, and the rest are Ciphers. It’s quite useful for getting away with paying much less for what you want… until you get caught, that is, heehee. They’re kind of stupid. I never used them.”

He shrugged, “Whatever these are meant to mimic, they’re quite large. Must be foreign. Either way, worthless to us.”

Mona frowned at the coin, turning it over in her hands. 

“The substance it’s made of, though,” she said, scratching the surface, “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s not paint, but this shade of green… It isn’t a treated metal either, is it?”

“If we go with the foreign theory, it might be treated by a method we don’t know about,” Plague Knight offered, offhandedly. 

Mona stood a moment longer, before summoning a piece of chalk and tracing an identification circle on the table.

“I want to know what it’s made of,” she said, eagerly.

When she’d finished preparing, she carefully picked up the Cipher Coin with a set of tongs from the lab table and placed it into the centre of the circle. A moment later, she let out a sharp gasp. Plague Knight turned to look as well and mimicked Mona’s sudden inhalation. 

Not one of the powders had changed colour to reflect the components of the substance. What was more, the circle was glowing with a faint white light. Both alchemists knew that there was only one substance on earth that could produce this type of reaction in an identification circle.

“…No way… I-it can’t be…” breathed Mona.

“Hee… B-but it is,” squeaked Plague Knight, excitedly.

“Prima Materia!!” they both cried, jubilantly. 

Prima Materia. To alchemists, this mythical substance was more valuable than gold itself was to regular folk, and several times over. Like the form they’d found it in, Prima Materia constituted a perfect zero; a pure base and blank canvas from which all materials on earth could spring. Gold, silver, vitriol, salt, spirits; by changing the balance of the four basic elements contained within, Prima Materia could literally become anything and everything a skilled alchemist desired. 

“This is incredible,” whispered Mona, trembling slightly, “This… We could– We could do anything with this! Each one of these beautiful little green coins could be the secret to unlocking the deepest kind of alchemical secrets! We could– w-we could Know all sorts of stuff! I-I could finally figure out how to finish those…”

She trailed off, running a hand over her hair, causing it to hide her flushed face a little, “I-I mean… This is an amazing find, huh…”

Plague Knight looked from Mona’s shining, half-hidden eyes to the pile of coins on the table. On one hand, he was itching to see the true capabilities of Prima Materia firsthand. On the other, he had an entire Explodatorium to run, and all sorts of mundane tasks backed up already. Meanwhile, Mona was working on some kind of tricky, top-secret experiment that seemed to be giving her some trouble. Would it not be better, then, to put these little green miracle coins to immediate good use..? Besides, he always loved feeding the fire behind her eyes…

“Heh… why don’t you take these with you, when you go back to The Village?” he said, breaking the silence and the identification circle, and sliding the coin across the table to Mona.

Mona blinked.

“H…huh?”

“Heh, use these to complete those little projects you were talking about. I’ll bet you could make a little Prima Materia go a long way… Besides, I’m too busy for experimentation, at the moment…”

Mona stared at him, mouth hanging open.

“B-but… I-I couldn’t. Not all of them– they’re so precious… Maybe a once-in-a-lifetime find… And we’re equal partners. You…”

“Heh, I’m sure you’ll put them to better use than I can. Just… think of it as a gift, heehee! A little thank you for… working so hard. For helping me bring all this to fruition…” 

Mona looked from Plague Knight to the coins, disbelievingly, eyeing him as if she thought he was crazy. He was beginning to think he was, in all honesty. Giving up something so valuable was so outside his character that he wondered if his illness was getting to his brain. He did feel rather hot around the collar, at the moment. 

“…Really..?” Mona fairly whispered.

“Heh. Uhhh, really,” Plague Knight replied. 

It was a wild, stupid, gut decision, but there was no backing out now. Mona’s eyes were glittering more brilliantly than the emerald stones in the chest. She looked as if she might burst into tears at any second. Instead, she pressed both hands over her mouth. Plague Knight could only just make out a very breathy, very muffled, “Oh, Plaguey..!” before Mona dove at him.  
Whatever happened next was a little hard to process. For a few moments, Mona was looming over him, bent double to to reach him. Her face was right above his, so close it was difficult to see, but he could feel her pressed against the top of his mask, and she remained there for several seconds. A moment later, she’d stumbled back, eyes popping in shock– or mortification? Then she whirled around, and disappeared in a flash of blue light, taking the Cipher Coins with her. 

It took Plague Knight approximately a minute to realize that she’d kissed him.


	10. The Inner Struggle

Plague Knight spent the next week in a fog. He went through his usual rounds, making sure everything was going smoothly. The minions were as accident prone as usual, and burst lessons were slow going. The Macawbes needed more training, and Plague Knight did his best to teach them comprehensive routes through the Explodatorium halls.  
Keeping busy kept his agitation at bay, and he did like socializing with the fauna of his labs. But whenever he was left to his own devices, his mind invariably wandered back to the incident with the Cipher Coins. Mona’s mysterious kiss, panicked reaction, and disappearance.   
It was completely bewildering. He couldn’t even begin to imagine why she would kiss him. Not because of the action itself; he knew that people often pressed their lips to someone else’s flesh to convey a sense of gratitude. But it was the person in question who’d done it that surprised him so. Mona was not at all the type of dole out thanks in this manner. She showed her appreciation through muttered words and faint not-smiles. She seemed to be as averse to touch as he was. So why on earth would she kiss him?   
The nasty, shadowy, clinging voice in the back of his mind told him she’d been playing a joke on him. Mocking him for his foolishness in giving away something so valuable for… for what? Just to see her grin one of her creepy rictus grins? Just to hear her laugh one of her weird, maniacal cackles? What worth did these have?  
And yet… Plague Knight reviled the idea that they were worthless. Mona’s feelings were worth something. For some reason… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.   
It was all so painful and confusing, it hurt to think about. Sometimes he wondered if Mona had even cursed him, judging by the way he felt.  
His miseries were abruptly brought to an end, however, by the arrival of the mail minion a few days later.

“…Master! Maaaaster!” he cried, barging into the chamber where Plague Knight was teaching the Macawbes to carry objects in their claws.

The spectral birds startled at his arrival, and fled to the rafters. Plague Knight scowled under his mask.

“What?!” he squawked, his voice resembling the cries of the birds that had just left him.

“Master, there’s a letter for you! From The Village!”

Plague Knight’s stomach wobbled, “…Which Village..?”

“The Village, Master! Look, it’s from Ms. Mona…” 

Plague Knight swallowed and took the letter from the Mail Minion’s outstretched hands.

“Heh… Heehee… Thank you, Mail Minion. Return to your post,” he said, hastily, waving the enthusiastic courier away.

Once he was gone, Plague Knight leaned against the stony wall and nervously opened the letter. 

 

“Dear Plague Knight.

First things first, I want to apologize. I reacted really poorly the other day. I was stupid and impulsive, and I broke some important boundaries. I only meant to thank you for your generosity, but I acted without thinking and I crossed a line. I know you hate to be touched without permission, or at all, really. 

I feel terrible for causing you such discomfort, and I promise I’ll never do something that idiotic again. I understand if you’re still upset and don’t want to see me, but I’d like to make it up to you. I’d also like to thank you properly for giving me such a fantastic gift. To be honest, I was making my little project for you anyway, but because of the Cipher Coins, I’ve got something even better for you. 

Please respond with a time we could meet up, or decline if you don’t feel like it. It’s your choice.

Mona.”

 

While Plague Knight was somewhat unnerved by the anxious, mechanical tone of the letter, its sentiment touched him. He hadn’t been as shaken up by the kiss as Mona seemed to think– More confused, than anything. Her confirmation that it had been in thanks definitely gave him a sense of relief. It wasn’t a joke, or a trick– take that, back-of-the-mind voice.   
But it seemed that Mona was really torn up over the whole thing, and for no reason… It appeared that both of them had misunderstood the situation, to some degree. 

Plague Knight folded the letter back up and tucked it into his robes. He straightened up, adjusted his pauldrons, and started down the hall to the storerooms. He was making another snap, silly decision. It had been ages since he’d left the Explodatorium, and this seemed like an issue that needed to be resolved in person. 

Plague Knight found a sheet of paper and began writing a short missive.

 

“Dear Mona.

HEE. Your apology is appreciated, but unnecessary. I’m not angry in the slightest about what happened. A little confused, though HEH. I’ll come down to The Village, and maybe we can talk about it? HEE HEE. 

I will arrive the day after this letter reaches you. Excited to see what you’ve brewed up!

HEE HEE HEE!

Plague Knight.” 

 

Folding up the letter, he dashed off again, looking for the Mail Minion. Upon finding him, Plague Knight instructed him to deliver the letter post-haste. Then he returned to his Macawbes, his chest buzzing with nervous excitement. This would be the first time he saw Mona’s lab. It would be something of a day off for him. A little vacation, almost. They would talk, and laugh, and do alchemy, and everything would go back to normal, and then he could go back to the Explodatorium refreshed and possibly weighted down with some wonderful new alchemical invention. 

That evening, Plague Knight made arrangements for Bertram to have regular feed in his absence. He let the little rodent out of his cage and let him scamper up his arm.

“Hello Bertram,” he muttered, softly, scratching the rat’s soft green head, “Hee! It must be nice to be a rat. You just eat and sleep and scurry around… how jolly! How uncomplicated, heehee!”

He let the little creature explore a little longer before tucking him back into his cage, and then returning to his papers. He was too nervous to even attempt sleep.

\- - -

It was a cool, crisp morning when Plague Knight boarded the Anvil catapult to The Village. Lance was attending, as usual, and the Horse eyed him sullenly as he climbed into the bucket. Plague Knight gave him a blithe little wave, wondering if he remembered him, or if he was simply suspicious of anybody in a beaked mask now that knowledge of alchemy was beginning to spread. 

With a loud KA-CHUNCK, the catapult sent Plague Knight soaring through the air. The trip lasted quite a long while, giving Plague Knight ample time to think over how to proceed. He wasn’t sure if the butterflies in his stomach were due to the change in air pressure, or his nerves.   
When he eventually hit the landing site -face first, of course- he pushed himself upright and took a whiff of Sweet before making his way through The Village. It was as bright and colourful as he remembered, full of bustling people going busily about their daily chores. Several of them gave him odd looks as he passed, but he ignored them. Nothing he wasn’t used to.  
It did not take long for Plague Knight to find the tavern, seeing as it was one of the largest buildings in The Village. Inside was a hive of activity, as usual; the annoying rhyming chef was cooking up a storm, surrounded by customers, the ticket-goat was munching thoughtfully on a sheet of paper, and… but the last stall on the main floor was empty. Its previous occupants… an old man and a young lady? Were nowhere to be seen. Plague Knight only gave this a passing thought, however, as he made for the ladder down into the basement of the tavern. 

The room down there was full of knights. Plague Knight scowled as he dropped down from the ladder, eyeing them uneasily. He still didn’t like knights, even if he no longer had anything to fear from them. This particular squadron, however, looked rather beat up. They were all leaning against the bar and nursing all sorts of different wounds. The barkeep was rushing about, handing out drinks and lending a listening ear. Plague Knight caught snippets of their conversation as he began searching the bar.

“…just couldn’t stop him… No idea how he manages to fight under all that gold…”

“…Pridemoor Keep can’t fall, right? Not to one crackpot with a toy sceptre…” 

“…King refuses to leave the Keep… I’m worried about him…”

“…and the Blue Burrower. If they were here, they’d sort it out in a second…”

After several rounds of knocking, Plague Knight finally managed to find a hollow stretch of wall. This was it. Plague Knight shook one of his bombs loose from his sleeve and tossed it hard at the ground. All the bar goers jumped as it detonated, and several knights drew their bent or chipped swords.

“Heehee! Don’t mind me– Just visiting a friend,” trilled Plague Knight, blithely, before waltzing through the newly-created doorway, into the back room beyond.

The chamber inside was not at all what Plague Knight was expecting. It was an echoing, brick dungeon of a place. The far walls were broken down, jutting out of the floor at odd angles, surrounded by rubble. The floorboards were splintery and slightly rotted, with cracks aplenty. But the most disconcerting thing about the place was that it was empty. Completely devoid of any sort of furnishings at all… except for a single, well-kept writing desk at the very back. Seated at this lone wooden piece was Mona.  
She was already standing up to greet him as he entered, smoothing down her plum-coloured skirts as she hastened across the grimy floor.

“Plague Knight… You came.”

“Yes! Not too abrupt, was I, heehee?”

“No… Um… I mean, I didn’t expect you to come down here, but…”

Mona was standing very stiffly with her hands folded over her navel. Her eyes were pointed determinedly at the floor and her lips were a thin line. Plague Knight frowned under his mask. She must still be worried over the Cipher Coin incident. He wondered how to broach the subject in a way that wouldn’t be too awkward for either of them. It was easy to communicate on paper, but now, standing face to face -or at least facing each other- it was suddenly a lot harder to express himself. He was about to speak, when Mona spoke first.

“I’m sorry,” the words came out of her as if fired from a canon, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just– I wanted to– I was just so overcome, and– and–”

“Uhh… eheh… Mona… I’m not upset,” said Plague Knight, his fingers rushing to drum against one another at waist height, “As I said in my letter, I’m just a little confused, hee! You’ve never done anything like that before.”

Mona flushed blue and her fingers clenched, the knuckles turning white.

“I… W-well, I…” whatever she was trying to say was seriously wearing on her. Her eyes were over-bright and her lip was trembling fiercely, “…I…”

Plague Knight suddenly seized on an idea. How could he have not realized it before?! He smacked his forehead with one hand and laughed.

“Oh! HEE HEE HEE! I should have known! It must be a leftover instinct from when you were a noble, heehee! Nobles are always kissing this and bowing to that, aren’t they?”

Mona’s jaw dropped at she stared incredulously at him. Ha! He must be right; she was clearly embarrassed she’d fallen back into old habits.

“Heehee! Of course! I’ll bet you had to kiss plenty of hands, or what have you, back in the day! Such a dainty favour of gratitude!” Plague Knight picked up one of his sleeves and waved it like a handkerchief, batting his eyelashes under his mask, “Next you’ll be giving me a lock of your hair when I go off to fight!”

Mona’s face crumpled and she covered it with one hand.

“Yeah… That’s exactly it,” she murmured, listlessly, “Well done, Plague Knight.”

Plague Knight cackled and cupped his face in his hands.

“You will cut me a lock, won’t you, Mona?” he teased, “I’m rather expecting one, now!”

Mona folded her arms and pouted, “I’ll cut you something, alright. Anyway. You wanted to see what I was working on, yes?”

Plague Knight tittered and straightened up, “Of course! Always.”

Mona’s pout melted away to be replaced with a grudging not-smile, which she quickly hid behind a curtain of blue-purple hair. Plague Knight glanced around the empty room, curiously.

“Where is your lab, anyway? Did you banish everything so you could make some kind of dramatic entrance?”

Mona rolled her eyes, “No. You’re the dramatic one, remember?” 

She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. The entrance sealed itself up again, and a rope ladder appeared in a heap, “This is just the reception area.”

Another snap, and several boards disappeared from the floor. Mona walked over to the ladder and carefully lowered it into the resulting hole, then beckoned Plague Knight over. He scurried towards her, peering onwards in interest.

“Hee! You’re getting good at summoning! What on earth is this, heehee?” 

“Turns out this whole town has a network of catacombs underneath it,” said Mona, slowly descending the ladder, “They repurposed them into the sewers a while ago, but there are deeper floors still. I discovered them when I accidentally…”

Mona trailed off. Plague Knight could just make out a blush appearing on her cheeks before she disappeared into pitch darkness. Plague Knight followed her down the ladder. Halfway through his descent, Mona summoned the floorboards back over his head, and lit several lamps down below. The chamber beneath was just as echoing and disheveled as the one above. The walls were all damp, black stone that seemed to absorb the candlelight, making it quite dreary indeed. The faint illumination afforded Plague Knight just enough sight to make out long corridors leading off into the darkness.   
Mona stood at a large, shabby, freestanding shelf which had been repurposed into something of a work desk. Flasks, beakers and alembics crowded the shelf-desk, glittering ghoulishly in the faint light. Beside it was a large, cast-iron cauldron, which seemed to have been used recently. It was a lonely, melancholy little setup, just like the one above it, and it seemed to reflect its mistress. 

Plague Knight hopped off the ladder and approached her.

“Heehee! Wow! This place is huge! You can stand to spread out, a little…”

“I don’t need to,” said Mona, shrugging, “I get everything I need done here. I use the rest of the space for testing. Speaking of which…” 

Mona reached up to one of the higher shelves at her station and lifted down a small container. Inside it were several standard bomb casings, each filled with a pale white powder that glowed with a faint blueish light. 

“These are for you,” she said, holding the container out to him, “I invented them myself. They’re not strictly offensive, but I’m sure they’ll be catastrophic in the right… well. In your hands.”

Plague Knight reached eagerly into the container and lifted up one of the bombs. It was slightly warm to the touch in a very familiar way.

“What does it do?” he asked, peering at it wonderingly.

“Give it a try. It’s a bit like a burst jump, in that you have to throw it at your feet. Just toss it down, and don’t picture anything dangerous. Go on…”

Plague Knight raised his eyebrow at her, “Hee, don’t you want to tell me exactly what it does, and how?”

“Not really. I want to see your… well, not face… but I want to see your reaction.”

“Hee! You really love surprises, don’t you?”

Mona smirked, “Only when they’re on someone else.”

Plague Knight shrugged, stepped away from Mona’s workspace so as not to disturb it, then deftly tossed the bomb directly downwards, leaping into it like a burst. It detonated in a small mushroom cloud of bright green smoke, engulfing him completely. The next second, he found himself barrelling towards one of the columns holding the ceiling up. Completely disoriented, he threw out his arms to stop himself and bounced off the stone, falling back. He sat up a moment later, and shook his head vigorously. He could hear footsteps. He looked up to see Mona’s dark shape jogging towards him. He could just make out her tiny lab behind her… about twenty feet away. 

“W… Heh..?”

Mona was swallowing back a giggle as she approached him. She stooped down and held out her hand, “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Heh, no,” Plague Knight stood up on his own and looked from himself to the candlelight in the distance, “…I was just over there.”

“You were.”

“And now I’m here.”

“You are.”

“…Mona. Did you teleport me?”

“…Not directly.”

Plague Knight stared for a few moments, then burst out laughing. His laughter bounced off the cavernous walls, making it seem as if there were several of him cackling at once. 

“You genius!” he cried, clutching his ribs, “How–– How did you do it?!”

“I’ll show you after you test the second one,” said Mona, and though he couldn’t quite make out her facial features, he could tell she was extremely pleased.

Wandering back over to her station, Mona pulled another container down from her shelf and offered it once more to her diminutive partner. Plague Knight seized one of the bombs even more eagerly than the first time, and danced out into the middle of the floor.

“How do I use this one?” he called.

“Just toss it anywhere.”

Plague Knight did as he was told, lobbing the bomb a safe distance away from himself and his partner. The detonation was very odd; the casing disintegrated on contact with the ground, and something spouted from the spot it had landed. The strange column changed shape in an instant, forming into a familiar silhouette in the semi-darkness. Plague Knight jumped back, prudently, and the figure copied him. He took a few steps forwards, and so did the figure. This close, Plague Knight could make out a perfect mirror-image of himself, staring back at him. He waved at the clone, and the clone waved back. When he turned to Mona, the clone turned as well. 

“HEE HEE HEE! This is inspired! A perfect doppelgänger– to confuse opponents, I’m sure!” 

The copy mimicked Plague Knight’s excited gestures, though he noted that it did not speak.

“But what is it made of? How did you make it so identical, hee?!”

Mona beckoned him over, looking pleased. 

“It’s all thanks to… your gift,” she said, “The Cipher Coins were a huge help. That’s a Slimulacrum, you see. A really advanced one– physically, at least. I’ve made it so that it will copy your movements precisely, and it even has rudimentary fighting skills. If you’re ever overwhelmed, or just need a quick distraction, toss one of these down and you’ll be set.”

Plague Knight giggled, “Why Mona, you act as if you expect me to be getting into scrapes every other day! I gave up the bandit business, remember?” 

“Yeah, well. You never know when idiot adventurers might show up to rob you,” she muttered, ruefully, “Plus… Not everybody trusts alchemy.”

Plague Knight chuckled and shook his head, “These are incredible. I’m jealous! You’re down here making breakthroughs, and I’m up there, chaperoning idiots.”

Mona paused, lacing her fingers together again.

“…I miss… being able to do stuff like this. With you,” she mumbled, quietly, “I wish… I mean, I’d l… I’d like… Ugh. I’d have liked to have made these with you. Not just… for you.”

“Heh… Well. The minions will learn to function without me eventually,” said Plague Knight, casually, “And then we can finally get to discovering all those little things we want to Know, heehee! This is just the first year, after all– we have plenty more!”

Mona’s eyes glittered in the candlelight.

“…Yeah…”

There was a small silence, before Mona shook herself out of her thoughts, “Oh! I promised I’d tell you how the Telebombs worked. Come with me.”

Mona picked up a candle and swept off down one of the echoing corridors, followed quickly by Plague Knight. 

“I thought you said you only worked at your little station,” he said, as he trotted after her.

“I do. This is where I store my… stuff.”

Mona lead Plague Knight into a smaller chamber. Warmth and faint light emanated from within, as well as a difficult-to-place smell. It was almost like the scent the earth had after it rained, but not quite. Inside was what appeared to be a large, iron tank with several pipes protruding from it. The glow was coming from inside. 

Mona drifted to its edge and beckoned Plague Knight over. When he reached her side, he had to stand on his tiptoes and pull himself up over the lip of the tank to see in.

“Here,” Mona summoned a stool beneath him, and he gratefully steadied himself on it.

The tank was full of clear liquid -possibly water- and there were three glowing beakers floating inside. Each one was shining with blue-purple light. Plague Knight could just make out a small, rotating sphere submerged in further liquid within the beakers, producing the eerie light.

“…What are those..?”

Mona stared down at them, her face bathed in their glow.

“…It’s my magic,” she said, “It’s being fermented as we speak.”

“Your… y-your magic?”

Mona nodded, “I figured out how to siphon it out of me. It’s very volatile in open air, but I found a way to stabilize it. After fermentation, it becomes a sort of… liquid, that I can use in bomb-making. I can even isolate specific spells, if I’m quick enough. That’s how I made the teleportation powder. It’s not easy, and it’s extremely delicate what with the alchemy-magic principal, but I…”

Plague Knight shook his head in wonderment, a strange swelling sensation overtaking his entire torso.

“Mona… This is…”

“Here, this is what it looks like when it’s ripe,” Mona interrupted, kneeling down behind the tank and picking up a small bottle. The contents were dark purple, viscous, and full of bubbles. She handed the bottle to Plague Knight, who took it in trembling fingers. Like everything else, it was slightly warm. 

“I can literally make flowers of magic,” she said, a maniacal grin spreading across her face, “Isn’t that… Well, it’s pretty crazy, right?”

“H-heehee! Pretty crazy indeed,” said Plague Knight, his voice cracking.

All of the sudden, the pair were startled by a loud chime. Mona flinched. 

“Oh, damn– Somebody’s asking for me…” she hastened to the mouth of the chamber, “Just stay here, alright? I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

With that, Mona disappeared into the corridor and out of sight. Plague Knight was left alone in the warm, softly glowing room with the bottle of Mona’s magic in his hands. The silence suddenly seemed deafening, only accentuated by the soft bubbling of the tank full of raw magic. Plague Knight’s heart was beating heavily, and his knees were trembling.

This, here, in his hands… clutched in his eight, pale, spindly fingers… It was a piece of her. A pure, absolute, quintessential slice of his partner. The same thing that was in his staff, the same thing that was in those shining beakers and the incredible bombs– the same thing that was inside Mona, herself. That was Mona, herself.  
Plague Knight was overcome with a thick, heady fog. Most of his thoughts were snuffed out, except for a few rather interesting ones. Very scientific thoughts, these.

Thoughts such as, “I want to drink it,” and “I want to know what it tastes like. What does Mona taste like?” and, “If I drink it, what will happen to me?” and, “Will it be warm?”

His fingers were already prizing at the cork, pulling eagerly at the barrier between him and the mesmerizing liquid inside… 

Plague Knight nearly dropped the bottle in horror. His senses returned all at once, crashing around him like a freezing wave of water. What on earth was he thinking? Drink it? Was he insane? The contents could potentially kill him– but even worse than that, the reasoning behind the desire -and it was a strong desire- was even madder than the action itself.   
His heart hammered violently against his ribs as he stumbled off the stool and put the bottle hastily back behind the tank. There were several more, there, and Plague Knight had to force himself not to look at them, for fear he might lose himself again and try once more.

Staggering away from the tank, he clutched his chest and wheezed. A feeling of pure dread settled upon him as he caught his breath. It was dawning on him that he was experiencing his symptoms again. Fever, sweats, jitters… and now, senility, it seemed. Was the disease affecting his brain? Plague Knight choked back a warble of fear. The idea of losing his mind was far scarier than any enemy he’d ever faced. Sure, he knew he wasn’t the most mentally stable person on the planet, but he’d always been secure in his intellect and mental faculties… until now.   
The urge to drink pure, distilled magic was surely the first sign that he was falling off his rocker… He had to do something about this. Now. If it wasn’t too late, already…

Plague Knight began hurrying down the corridor, back towards Mona’s station. Just as he did so, he heard Mona’s footsteps ahead of him. His heart skipped a beat and he swallowed a wave of panic. He would be okay; he just had to seek medical attention now. He could meet up with her later… apologize for his sudden disappearance… 

“Hey. Sorry, Plague Knight, I–“

“Hee! H-heeheehee! Haha! Uhhh– I-I need to… I just remembered, hahaha– I-I have to– Ahh, I have an errand… to… ah…”

The alchemists stopped in front of one another, staring. Mona stiffened, suddenly.

“Plague Knight. What did you do.”

“What?”

“You’re acting like– Oh gods. Don’t move.”

Mona rushed off towards her storeroom, and Plague Knight nearly chased after her to tell her he hadn’t messed anything up -or that he’d managed to prevent himself from doing so- but realized it was better to run now and apologize later.  
He ducked towards Mona’s station, grabbed a telebomb and tossed it at his feet, picturing the bar as clearly as he could. From Mona’s cryptic comment earlier, he surmised that he could control the trajectory of his teleportation if he thought about where he wanted to go.   
Thankfully, his hunch was correct; he appeared in a burst of green smoke in the middle of the bar, sending the knights into a tizzy again. Plague Knight ignored them and rushed to the ladder, clambering up to the main floor and then out into the mid-morning sunlight.

He headed straight for the local healer’s, and demanded to be looked at.

“I don’t care how much it costs,” he squawked at the front desk, furiously, “I need to be seen, NOW!”

A few minutes later, after the exchange of some gold, he was taken into a bright room full of herbs to speak with a young man in healers robes.

“Good day, sir,” said the healer, politely, “What seems to be the problem?”

“Doctor,” said Plague Knight, urgently, “I’ve contracted a very serious illness that I believe is affecting my mental capabilities. I fear that if I allow it to progress any further, I may lose all faculties… and die.”

He hated showing this much weakness in front of someone -especially a stranger- but he was definitely not going to just let himself waste away. He had far too much to live for, now– not least his dear partner. If he died, she’d be left to care for the Explodatorium alone, and he did not want to subject her to sole care of that madhouse. 

“Are you aware of the specific illness?” asked the healer, looking a little uncertain.

“No,” said Plague Knight, “But I can describe the symptoms in detail.”

The healer bade him continue, and Plague Knight recounted his attacks. The sudden onset of high fever, increased heart rate, copious sweating, shaking of the limbs -especially the knees- and a peculiar inability to articulate properly. The healer listened thoughtfully, his brows knit together.

“Have you been experiencing any pain,” he asked, “Any kind of upset in the bowels? Spots? Cough? Inflammation?”

Plague Knight shook his head, doing his best to reign in his anger, “No, you fool, the symptoms are exactly as I describe. And they strike very suddenly– hee! Right out of the blue! Then… they disappear again! I have been through dozens of medical texts, but I can’t find any matches… B-but, heh, perhaps they are out of date..? Surely, you know of… something...”

The healer frowned, shaking his head slightly.

“These symptoms could be related to any number of diseases… but not in the way you describe. I’ll have a look through our texts, but…” the healer winced, “You haven’t been travelling recently, have you? It might be something foreign.”

“Just as far as the Armour Outpost,” Plague Knight replied, tersely. 

“Hmm…”

As the healer left, Plague Knight was left alone on the table he’d been sat upon. He stared down at his pale greenish fists, and a thought struck him. Could this illness have resulted from too much exposure to alchemical compounds? Many of the elements used in alchemy were dangerous in large amounts… Mercury, lead, even antimony had been observed to cause all sorts of problems amongst scientific circles… But Plague Knight had adhered to every safety procedure in the book. He couldn’t have poisoned himself… could he? Or… or…  
He sagged, relaxing his fists. He had never been well. The moment he was born, he was small and sickly and… wrong. Perhaps he was simply destined to deteriorate further and further until he was snuffed out… a brief candle… a bomb. Blazing brightly… gone in an instant.

He was startled out of his depressing thoughts by the healer, who reentered the room with a stack of tomes. His expression was not optimistic. 

“I couldn’t find anything in any of the books,” he said, apologetically, setting the texts down on a table next to him. 

“…Right. Excellent. Fantastic,” growled Plague Knight, hopping off the table.

“I can refer you to the healer at the Armour Outpost– they’re actually a lot better equipped over there, so they might–“

“Yes. Right away.”

 

Plague Knight found himself soaring back through the air a few minutes later, clutching a referral from The Village healer. When he arrived at the Armour Outpost, he made his way to the hospital he’d stayed at after Percy broke his leg. Once again he forked over gold to be seen immediately, and explained as calmly as he could the symptoms of his mysterious disease.  
Alas, their reaction was much the same as The Village’s healer. No matter how many books they looked through, they couldn’t find anything. These healers, however, at least tried to treat him in the best way they could. Judging by his fever and sweats, he seemed to be engorged with the hot, wet Sanguine humour; therefor a good bloodletting would at least assuage some of his suffering.   
Plague Knight reluctantly allowed himself to be bled, but only came away from it feeling woozy and glum. The healers gave him one final promise to call in a specialist from a faraway land, before sending him on his way.

Plague Knight stumbled out of the hospital and staggered down the streets, his head swimming. Somehow, he found himself gravitating towards a nearby juice bar, the faint thought that fruit-based liquid would help him replenish the blood he’d foolishly allowed those idiot healers to take. He tottered into the establishment and collapsed into one of the stools at the bar, letting his chin land on the table with a thunk.

“What can I get you?” asked the bartender. 

“Apple juice. Pint glass. Straw, please.”

The bartender eyed him uncertainly, before bustling away. He returned a few moments later with a the requested beverage, thumping it down on the counter.

“That’ll be ten gold.”

Plague Knight plinked a few coins on the table, then tugged his glass towards him and sipped gloomily through the straw. The liquid was sweet and tangy. Must be green apple, he thought, vaguely. 

He nursed his juice for a while, thinking about his uncertain future. This foreign healer was his last hope, but somehow, he didn’t believe they could help. He supposed he’d just have to resign himself to the possibility that he might begin fading away…   
He swallowed a lump in his throat and clenched his fists. This was no time to be feeling sorry for himself. He had to begin making provisions in case his grim fate came true. These were his last moments, and he had to make the most of them. 

“Hey, doc! You feelin’ alright?” 

Plague Knight jumped a little at the sudden voice and turned to see a man sitting down next to him. He appeared to be middle aged, with a greying, receding hairline and a heavyset build. His eyes were small and crinkly, and his large, sausage-like fingers slapped down several coins on the table.

“Jasper! Two grapes for me, and another of whatever this guy’s having for him!” he cried.

Plague Knight narrowed his eyes. He was not in the mood to accept drinks from some doddering old fool. Though, thinking about it, this might be where he himself was headed. …Oh well. At least the man looked happy.

“Look like you’re gonna explode or somethin’, kid,” said the man, amiably, turning in his seat to look at Plague Knight properly. 

“Heh. That’s more likely than you think,” muttered Plague Knight, sardonically. 

“Just get off duty? Patients been givin’ ya guff? Ahh, I remember that. Hypochondriacs; bane of my existence! Ya tell’em they’re fine once, ya tell’em they’re fine a hundred times; they won’t leave ya alone till ya bled’em too dry to think straight, hahaha!”

Plague Knight winced, feeling even more idiotic for allowing the healers to bleed him.

“So what’s ailin’ ya, doc?”

Plague Knight sighed, before smirking slightly.

“If you must know, I’m dying,” he said, flatly. 

The man blinked in surprise. Plague Knight’s smirk grew, revelling in the man’s sudden change in mood. Yes. Feel bad for being obnoxious, you old souse. 

“Ahh, that’s too bad,” said the man, at length, “Whatcha got? Is it catching?”

“I don’t know,” said Plague Knight, turning back to his juice, “Nobody has been able to diagnose me.”

“Oh yeah? Gimme a try. I bet I can tell.”

Plague Knight raised an eyebrow, derisively, “Oh really? Hee! And who are you, exactly?” 

“Name’s Asa. Been a healer since I was just an itty-bitty mite of nine. Just got laid off, recently, heheh.” 

“Hee! With your bedside manner? Can’t imagine why…” muttered Plague Knight, dryly.

“Doesn’t matter! I seen it all. Here; I’ll betcha twenty gold I can tell ya whatcha got. Go on. Ya win either way. Sorta.” 

Plague Knight sighed. He’d already made himself vulnerable in front of several healers already. What was one more? 

“Very well. You’d better have twenty gold on you…” Plague Knight began recounting his symptoms once again, “High fever, sweating, tremors -especially in the knees- increased heart rate, difficulty in speaking, dry mouth, a sense of anxiety… and most recently, an onset of mental feebleness. All of these come on rather suddenly, in attacks, then fade away.” 

Asa listened carefully, brow furrowed, cleft chin clenched between thumb and forefinger. The bartender appeared, then, and placed down two glasses of grape juice, and one of apple. 

“Thanks, Jasp. Hmm…”

“Hee! Well?” said Plague Knight, expectantly, “Go on. Diagnose me, miracle man!”

Asa paused a moment longer, before an odd expression came across his features. 

“…Just gotta ask you one question. These attacks… D’they come on in the presence of one particular person?”

Plague Knight was taken aback. None of the other healers had asked such a question. As ridiculous as it seemed, Plague Knight thought back to all instances of his disease taking hold of him. To his surprise, the answer was in fact…

“…Yes. Heh, actually, they do.”

Asa perked up, slightly, “And who’s the person?”

“My partner.”

“Your partner?”

“Yes, my business and scientific collaborator. Heh, why? What does this have to do with my disease? Just admit you don’t know and pay up already, heehee! It will be far less humiliating!”

To Plague Knight’s annoyance, Asa smirked.

“This collaborator’a yours. What’re they like?”

Plague Knight scowled, “Why should I tell y–“

“You like’em, right?”

Plague Knight was getting more and more agitated, “HEE! Of course I like her! Otherwise, I wouldn’t spend extended periods of time in her presence! You may not have noticed, you dullard, but I’m not a people person!”

Asa promptly burst out laughing. Plague Knight cracked up as well, though the emotion fuelling him was far from mirth. 

“Heehee! Haha! Yes, go on! I could use a laugh! Just keep spouting inanities at a terminally ill man who’s––“

“You–– You jackass!” howled Asa, spilling his grape juice all down his front, “You colossal boob, hahahah!”

Plague Knight was so taken aback he could hardly formulate a scathing response, “Y-yes? Hee, w-what about you?”

The man slapped Plague Knight’s back, suddenly, sending him chest-first into the bar. Before Plague Knight could re-inflate his battered lungs and attack the man, Asa shook his bright red head and wheezed.

“Hoo hoo, you’ve got it bad! You’re IN LOVE, ya dummy!”

Plague Knight was struck dumb. He couldn’t even fumble for a bomb to blow this man out of the bar. He could hardly even process how utterly absurd this suggestion was. He squinted at Asa, trying to determine if this was one of his minions out of their uniform; after all, an idea so addlepated could have only come from one of them. Yet Asa seemed completely sure of his diagnosis as he mopped up his sopping shirt and took a long draught from his second glass.

“Ohhh… You kids! Idiots, all’a ya!”

Plague Knight spluttered, “Me? I’m the idiot?”

He fell into yet another paroxysm of laughter, but came up earlier than usual, still being woozy from his bloodletting.

“Y-you… Haha… Hhhh… You say I’m the idiot, hhhee… And yet, you suggest that, hhh… That my disease is… is mere infatuation?!”

Asa chuckled, “Wow. You have a pair of lungs on ya… But yeah! Classic case of love-sickness! Heart beatin’ outta your chest, drownin’ in your own sweat, knees kn-kn-knockin’ together when she walks past… G’on, tell me– is she pretty? I’ll betcha dream about her every day.”

Plague Knight rolled his eyes, “Hee! Oh please. Save your sappy silliness for someone else. I think about Mona often because we’re partners in alchemy! She’s the only person clever enough to warrant a second thought!”

“Mona, eh? Cute name,” said Asa, ignoring his disdain, “So she’s your li’l lab partner, eh..? Smart one, huh? She really gets you, right? Understands ya in ways no one else can… or puts up with ya, at least, hahaha!!”

For the first time, a drop of doubt fell into Plague Knight’s heart. Something in Asa’s words struck a chord with him. ‘Understands ya in a way no one else can…’  
That was true. Mona did understand him. She understood his contempt for people, his way of thinking, his deep, all-consuming desire for knowledge… Mona really understood. And in being understood, Plague Knight felt happy in a way he’d never really known before. Because Mona listened, and contributed, and laughed with him, and… and she liked him. 

Asa noted Plague Knight’s sudden silence with a big, gleeful grin.

“Aaah! It dawns on’im! Well, whadya say, kid? Do I get my twenty gold, now?”

Plague Knight hopped off his stool, ignoring Asa’s protests, and fled the bar. He stumbled through the darkening streets, hobbling along until he felt too tired to go on. He collapsed against a wall near the Aerial Anvil and slid down it, pressing both hands over his chest.  
Mona’s smirking face floated to the forefront of his consciousness, and a bubble of warmth rose through his chest, popping in his throat and sending a little hiccup of emotion tumbling out his beak.

Oh no. Oh gods. Asa was right. Plague Knight choked back another strangled little cry and squeezed the material over his sore breastbone. 

He was utterly out of his mind with love for Desdemona Mopes, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that chapter! Unfortunately it will be the last one for two weeks since I'm going on vacation... But worry not! I'll be right back to posting after I return. I mean. If you follow this fic that closely, haha.
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for reading, and I hope you're all have a lovely day! --TS


	11. The Local Happenstance

Plague Knight returned to The Village early the next morning, groggy and nervous. He’d slept in the alleyway at the Armour Outpost, too overcome with emotion to do much else. He felt tender and weak, and rather shivery, as if he’d come down with the flu, and wondered whether it was because of his blood loss or last night’s realization, or a little of both. 

When he returned to the tavern, he found it mostly empty. To his surprise -and embarrassment- Mona was sitting at the bar eating what looked to be a large bowl of salad. She was allowing the barkeep to talk at her, giving the occasional “mm” and “ah” in all the appropriate places. Her hair was falling over her face in blue-purple curtains, but Plague Knight could just see her eyes and nose from his angle. His heart fluttered and he swallowed, thickly. 

“Oh, good morning!” called the barkeep as Plague Knight made his presence known, “Can I get you anything?”

“Ahh… No,” said Plague Knight, not really focusing on the woman behind the bar so much as the one sitting at it. 

Mona looked up an stared at him, inscrutably. He shuffled towards her and hopped up on a stool next to her. Mona poked her fork back into her bowl and transferred a slice of tomato to her mouth. Her chewing was a little distracting, but Plague Knight did his best to ignore it.

“G-good morning, heh..!”

Mona waited until she’d finished swallowing her tomato to reply, “Good morning,” in a blank monotone. 

Plague Knight gripped the ends of his tunic, anxiety enveloping him. She seemed upset with him. Was she upset with him? He supposed he had run off rather abruptly, yesterday. In his defence, he’d been worried he was dying. But now that was no longer a problem…

“Uhh…” Plague Knight worried at the hem of his tunic, “Heh. Um. So–“

“I’m just going to finish this,” said Mona, flatly, pointing to her salad, “Is that alright?”

“Oh, er, y-yes!” Plague Knight winced and nodded, frantically, “You– Y-you enjoy..! Your… Greens. Heehee…”

He folded his hands in his lap and turned away to let her eat in peace. Mona took a few minutes to polish off the last of her cucumbers before standing up and banishing the bowl.

“Thanks, Lisa,” she said, “I’m going back to my chambers. You’ll ring the alarm if anyone comes for me..?” 

“‘Course, Mona,” said the barkeep, beaming amiably, “I’ll seeya later, dear.”

Mona swept to her secret wall in a billow of plum-coloured robes, and banished the door. She paused just before entering, and looked back at Plague Knight, who had remained at the bar.

“…Are you coming..?” she asked.

Plague Knight flinched. He didn’t realize she wanted him to follow her. He hopped down from his stool and hastened to her side. She let him through the door before sealing it back up, then made for her writing desk. Plague Knight trundled after her, tapping his fingers together.

“So… Uh…”

“What happened yesterday?” Mona’s monotone had lifted, and there was a solicitous glint in her eyes, “I thought you blew up my magic repository, or something, but everything was fine… and then you disappeared. I thought the knight’s had gotten you…” 

She gave him a reproachful frown. Plague Knight blushed under his mask.

“Hee– A-a-an urgent matter of business presented itself, and… I had to run. I… I’m sorry.”

He continued to tap his fingers together, not meeting Mona’s eyes. He saw her shift, slightly.

“Are you okay? You seem out of sorts,” she said, after a while, “That ‘urgent matter of business’ wasn’t some kind of confrontation after all, was it?”

“No! No… Heh… I-I’m just a little…” his body chose that moment to show just how tired he was. He wobbled on his feet, and Mona quickly moved to steady him. Her touch burned against his arms. He jerked away, reflexively.

“Sit down,” said Mona, sharply, “Something’s wrong with you.”

Plague Knight decided not to argue, and planted is rear on the ground. His head spun slightly. There was a crisp snapping sound, and a moment later Mona was kneeling beside him, holding a flask of thick, red liquid. Plague Knight recognize it; it was the same potion she’d sent him as an anniversary present.

“Drink this,” she said, handing him the flask, “It’s mark two. Hopefully, it will help.”

Plague Knight took the potion and popped a straw down the neck, then drank. The sensation was much the same as the last time, though this time it wasn’t quite as uncomfortable to imbibe. The warm sense of embrace settled on him, and his nerves melted into a simple sense of shyness.

“…Thanks,” he mumbled, when he’d finished. 

“How do you feel– did it help, at all?”

“Kind of. I feel warm, now, at least.”

“When did you last eat?”

“Uhhh…”

Mona stood up and made for the door, “Stay here.”

Plague Knight did as he was told and turned the empty flask over in his hands. He was trying to avoid his thoughts and feelings, but they were nudging at the edges of his mind. He’d have to address them sooner or later. Hopefully he’d be able to hold out until Mona let him go.

When she returned, she was carrying a bowl of thick, creamy stew.

“It’s Bish!” cried Plague Knight, recognizing the delicious foodstuff from long ago.

Mona snorted softly and handed him the bowl, “Bisque. I still haven’t learnt to make it yet. This is from the Gastronomer.”

She let Plague Knight slurp down the contents in silence, sitting at her writing desk and watching him, carefully. Plague Knight felt a little awkward under her stare, but finished his meal nonetheless. Now, with a full stomach and a warm body, he felt far more comfortable than he had in some time. Mona sighed softly and banished the bowl when he put it down.

“…What am I going to do with you..?” she murmured, mostly to herself.

Plague Knight cocked his head, and Mona seemed to realize she’d spoken out loud. She cleared her throat and quickly began adjusting the inkstand on her desk. 

“Uhhh… Thank you, Mona,” said Plague Knight, getting to his feet, “For everything. I think I’m going to… take a little walk, around The Village, heehee! Just have a little stroll before I… have to go back to the Explodatorium.”

“Oh…” Mona looked slightly crestfallen, but nodded nonetheless, “Just come back before you go, okay? I have to give you your Copy and Teleport bombs. And… Well. Anyway. I’ll see you later..?”

“Yes! Hee! I’ll… see you later.”

 

When Plague Knight exited the tavern, there were shafts of light peeking through the watery grey clouds that had shrouded the sky since early morning. Plague Knight walked aimlessly but seriously through the streets, falling into deep thought. 

So. He was in love. As mad as the idea sounded, something in him knew it to be true. It was hard to believe, for a variety of reasons, but, as the annoying bar-goer had said, he fit all the classic criteria. He’d seen others talking to their crushes before; stammering, sweating, blushing and fiddling. He’d always scoffed at them. Silly people with their silly affections.  
But now he was the one tripping foolishly over himself for the attentions of a lady, and… it all seemed so absurd. Love was a foreign concept to him; he only knew of it from stories and passing glances. The only thing close to a crush he’d ever experienced was a certain appreciation for a lovely illustration of Alchimia, the anthropomorphic personification of alchemy, in one of his textbooks.  
Love just didn’t seem to suit him. He felt utterly disconnected from those tales of heroic knights and their lady loves. He couldn’t picture himself belting out romantic poetry or chopping down scores of roses with his non-existent sword.  
He probed his feelings, anxiously– had Asa been right after all? Or had Plague Knight panicked and seized onto the only definitive and non-deadly diagnosis he’d managed to find, deluding himself out of fear for his life? No. He had to be scientific about this. It ought to be simple to test himself.  
He tried to think of all the expressions of love he’d seen or heard of before. Did he stutter and blush in Mona’s presence? Yes. The correlation between her appearance and the surfacing of his ‘symptoms’ proved that. Mona made him nervous. But not because he was afraid of her. Not in a negative way.

Did he try to impress her in all sorts of lavish ways? At first, Plague Knight thought no, he didn’t; he’d never felt the urge to buy her flowers or chocolate or what-have-you. But then he remembered his constant desire to prove to her his strength and prowess, as well as his pleasure at being able to show off in front of her. He liked fighting others for her amusement, and he absolutely loved any opportunity to make her do one of her weird little rictus-grins. Did that count..? 

Maybe he was thinking about this backwards. Perhaps he had to think about how he might react if Mona reciprocated his feelings– surely that would give him answers. What did people do when they returned affection..?  
Well, stereotypically, there was the kiss. He’d once seen a young woman proudly present a gift to her beloved, only to melt into a babbling mess as the other girl showered her in kisses. Would he react the same way if Mona did that? She’d already kissed him once, after all, he realized. And he hadn’t gone all twitterpated, then.  
But now that he thought about it, he hadn’t quite registered what was going on at the time. The action had mystified him– and then, of course, he’d deduced that she’d only meant it as a sign of gratitude due to her upbringing. But if she hadn’t… if it had been a romantic embrace… what then?  
He pictured her leaning over again, her face approaching his, dangerously close. Her breath was warm and sweet, followed by lips equally so, pressed against the bare skin of his forehead…  
Plague Knight had to quickly banish this image, satisfied that yes, yes, he would like that a lot. Alright. 

He heaved a deep sigh. Everything was suddenly so much more complicated than it had been just two days ago. A sense of worry crept into his heart. Would his affections ruin their relationship? What if it changed his perception of her; what if he could never look at Mona the same again– and what if that put a strain on their friendship? What if he was so focused on his confusing feelings that he could no longer enjoy her company? He didn’t want that– Mona was the only friend he had, and he cherished every moment spent with her. She made him happy in a way he’d never experienced before. Her company was a source of joy and comfort like no other… Could love make him lose one of the only truly good things he’d ever managed to hold onto..? 

But then a sudden thought struck him, one that changed everything. Maybe, just maybe, that very feeling was a kind of love. Not the kind he knew much about, which was the kind spoken of in flighty tales of romance, but one that he was nonetheless experiencing. He’d grown attached to Mona exactly because she brought him so much comfort, and because he simply adored her as a person. This attachment, then… it seemed realistic that it might transmutate into love, didn’t it..? 

Plague Knight shook his head. He was thinking too hard. He would turn to books, as he always did, and study up on his predicament. Understand love in a way that life had never afforded him. Then he could decide on what to do next. For now, he simply let the warm feeling stay in his heart, and hoped for the best.  
Mona… his dear, dear partner. Come hell or high water, he would remain by her side, love be damned, or… well. Accepted. 

He was just thinking of returning to the tavern to bid his goodbyes to her, when he walked straight into someone heading the other way. He fell back, plopping onto the ground with a slight puff of dust. The woman he’d run into staggered, fumbling with a shiny ceramic urn in her arms.

“Oh… dear… I’m so sorry…” she breathed in a soft, breathy voice, “Are you hurt?”

Plague Knight scrambled up, brushing down his robes, “Hee! You should watch where you’re going, you–”

“Wait, hold on a second…” the woman leaned down to peer at him, closely, with wide eyes.

Plague Knight leaned away from her, uncomfortably. Her eyes weren’t particularly big, but they were a piercing shade of green. Not the same as Mona’s, but still alight with an unnerving gleam that seemed to be penetrating Plague Knight’s very soul.

“Um… Ah… I know you,” she said, straightening up again.

She was rather tall, and slim, and she was dressed in a silky blue gown. Her flaxen hair was wound up with blue ribbon in two large buns on either side of her head, and her rosy lips were puckered in a look of concentration. 

Plague Knight glanced back and forth, agitatedly.

“Heh, what?”

“I know you..! You’re that… alkimi guy…”

Plague Knight sighed quietly, “Heh, yes. I am an alchemist. I am Plague Knight– master of the Explodatorium!”

The introduction still rang hollow in his ears. The woman nodded, a look of recognition dawning on her face. 

“Oh, yes… This is wonderful… You help people with… things, right?”

Plague Knight hesitated, then shrugged, “Yes. For a price. What… things do you need help with, exactly, heehee?”

The woman held out the urn she was carrying. It was grey and shiny, and the lid of it seemed to be stuck on, as she didn’t need to keep it closed with her fingers.

“It’s my father, you see… Um, actually, I should start at the beginning… I’m Euphemia, you see… Daughter of the local Magicist? Only… father died, just a little while ago… And I’m supposed to be Magicist after him… Except a terrible curse befell his immortal soul, and prevented it from moving on… and I just can’t succeed him until I know he is at rest… You could help free him, right..?”

Plague Knight realized that this was the young female assistant from the tavern, the one who had been taking notes -or trying to- from the old man at the now empty stall. And now, of course, Plague Knight realized why it was empty, and who the old man had been.

“Well, heh, I’m not exactly well versed in curses,” said Plague Knight, truthfully, “But I do know someone who might be able to help! I was just going to see her… Why don’t you follow me, and we can discuss a price as we go, hee..?”

Euphemia nodded, vacantly, “Um, okay! Good!” 

Plague Knight was just about to usher her back towards the tavern, when there was a long, low growl. Shrieks came from the nearby villagers, giving rise to the sound of enormous footfalls. Plague Knight spun around to see an enormous white creature barrelling down the street, directly at him. It was furry, and ape-like, with huge claws and tusks, and large bare feet that carried it far faster than seemed possible. Plague Knight didn’t hesitate– he simply turned tail and ran. 

As he scampered pell-mell down the dusty streets, pursued by the enormous beast, he noticed Euphemia following just behind him, urn in one hand, skirts in the other. 

“Hee! What are you doing?!” cried Plague Knight, “Get out of here!”

“Um, but, I need your help,” she called back to him, seemingly totally oblivious to the sudden drastic situation.

Plague Knight rolled his eyes and dug into his robes. Time to face this thing head on. He pivoted deftly and bomb-bursted into the air, then tossed a volley of explosives at the creature. To his dismay, it seemed to shrug them off like they were snowballs. Plague Knight bomb bursted again to gain back the distance he’d lost trying to combat the creature, but even so, it was quickly gaining on him. It roared, putrid breath and flecks of greenish spittle flying out of its mouth. 

Plague Knight was just about to reach for another bomb, when he was lifted bodily off the ground. He struggled, at first, but realized to his shock that Euphemia had picked him up. She was sitting on an empty, parked produce cart, and she placed him next to her in the driver’s seat.

“Here, um, you steer,” she said, “I’ll just…”

She placed her hands lightly on the sides of the cart, and a flicker of golden light passed through it. The cart promptly came to life and started moving. Plague Knight took the reigns -which weren’t connected to anything- and began steering the cart down the road. This was a far more effective means of travel. 

“Hold this, please,” said Euphemia, vaguely, putting her urn gently into Plague Knight’s lap. 

Then, to his amazement, she turned around in her seat and held up her hands. A crackle of golden magic passed between her palms, forming a spectral arcuballista. She drew back the phantom string and loaded an equally non-corporeal arrow into it. 

“Please leave us alone,” she called, and let the arrow loose. 

It streaked through the air, whistling and shimmering, before exploding in a blast of blinding light against the monster. There was a roar of pain. 

“HEE HEE! WOW! What are you packing?!” squawked Plague Knight, quickly turning his eyes back to the road.

“Repulsion spell, arrow format,” she replied, dreamily, “It doesn’t seem to have worked very well, though… Oh dear…”

The horrible white beast was still chasing them, swinging its gargantuan arms and smashing through anything that got in its way. Villagers scattered at the sight, leaping for cover, but the creature ignored them, focused singularly on its target. Plague Knight wondered what he’d done to incur the monster’s wrath, and where on earth it had come from. It seemed to have been in The Village nearby the street Plague Knight and Euphemia had been talking on, yet he doubted it could have arrived there without alerting the locals. How, then, had it seemingly sprung from nowhere with a phantom growl? Unless…

“Uhm, it seems to be gaining on us, Mr. Plague Knight,” said Euphemia, sounding somewhat concerned.

Plague Knight chose to ignore this most useful tip and focused on the road. He kept his eyes out for anything he could use to defeat the creature. Judging by previous efforts, it would take an absolutely heroic quantity of explosives to do the beast in properly. As they neared the outskirts of The Village, Plague Knight spotted exactly what he’d been looking for. He yanked hard on the reigns and sent the cart zooming off to the left. He pulled the cart to a stop behind the ruins of an old stone building, stashed Euphemia’s urn on the seat, then hopped out. He beckoned to Euphemia to follow him.

“On my signal,” he said, watching the oncoming beast, “Fire off another one of those arrows of yours. Got it?”

“Uhh…” Euphemia seemed to hesitate for a few moments, before nodding and giving a vague little smile, “Oh, yes! Alright!”

“Heh– When I shout fire, you fire, got it?” Plague Knight confirmed, feeling as though he were talking to one of his slower minions again.

“Mmm… Okay!”

He supposed he’d just have to trust her. How nerve-wracking. Plague Knight shook a bomb into his hands and quickly calculated trajectories and applications of ballistic force. The creature was fast approaching, its shaggy white shape growing larger and larger every second.

“Come on… come on… heehee! Just a little closer…” 

The beast was nearly upon them when Plague Knight shouted, “FIRE!’

Euphemia dutifully let loose a golden arrow, which hit the creature, causing it to stumble back and stunning it, momentarily. At the same time, Plague Knight tossed a lob-cased bomb against one of the weaker-looking stones of the old ruin. Just as he had predicted, the force of the explosion caused the brick to give way, leaving the rest of the walls to fall like a house of cards. The onslaught of rubble buried the creature, which howled in rage and pain, but fell under the crushing weight of stone.

Plague Knight clicked his heels in pleasure, letting out a wild cackle of triumph. 

“TAKE THAT!” he cried, “BOOM! HEEHEE!!!”

At that moment, a final piece of the wall fell from the remainder of the standing ruins. It dropped through the air and hit Plague Knight on the beak, sending him stumbling backwards into the cart. He hit the cart with a thud, causing it to shudder backwards, followed by the sound of ceramic rolling across wood. Then a loud smash.

Plague Knight steadied himself woozily, clutching his aching body gingerly. He opened his bottle of Sweet Vitriol and took a sniff, before limping towards the sound of the crash. Euphemia was there already, standing over the urn. It was broken into several pieces on the ground, and ashes had spilled everywhere. Plague Knight winced. Oh well. So much for that commission. 

Euphemia was staring at the broken urn with shining eyes.

“You… you…”

Plague Knight prepared himself to dodge several magical, golden arrows. But it turned out he didn’t need to. The next moment, Euphemia was beaming at him like the sun itself.

“Oh, Mr. Plague Knight! You did it! You um, freed my father! Now his soul can pass on to the other side..!”

Plague Knight stared, incredulously. A burble of laughter built in the back of his throat.

“H-hang on… Are you telling me… That the curse on your father… was that you couldn’t open his urn..?!”

Euphemia nodded, solemnly, “An evil spirit must have stuck the top on, so that I could never scatter father’s ashes… But now he is free!”

She raised her hands and, with a twinkle of golden magic, a wind came along and brushed the ashes off the ground, carrying them into the air. Plague Knight nearly broke a rib holding back his laughter. 

“Thank you so much! I’m, um, forever in your debt!”

Euphemia skipped over to Plague Knight and leaned down to press a kiss to the little alchemist’s mask. Plague Knight recoiled, sharply. There was only one person in the world allowed to get so close to him -and for more than one reason now, it seemed- and it was decidedly not Ms. Euphemia. She didn’t seem to mind his reaction at all, however. She merely straightened up dreamily, still smiling that sunny, unfocused smile.

“Now I am free to take up father’s position… Hence forth, I shed my earthly name and pledge my service to the Aether! I am now a Magicist… The Magicist!”

“Heh, you do that,” said Plague Knight, brushing down his robes and adjusting his mask.

“Should you ever have need of me, don’t hesitate to call… Goodbye!”

And with that, Euphemia… or The Magicist, took her leave, wandering vaguely back in the direction of The Village. Plague Knight watched her wonderingly, tittering to himself. People were so strange. He was shaken out of his chuckles, however, by a sudden groan form the pile of rubble. The sound was much, much smaller than the roar of the beast, and Plague Knight approached cautiously to investigate.  
To his surprise, the beast was nowhere to be seen. Instead, an old man in tattered purple robes was trying to limp out of the rubble. He’d managed to avoid being crushed, but he looked much the worse for wear. His shaggy beard was full of gravel, and his tiny half-moon glasses were cracked. He heaved a heavy cough and crawled amongst the broken bricks, shaking violently.

“Y…you…” he wheezed, as he caught sight of Plague Knight, “You blasted… bird..!”

Plague Knight blinked. 

“I won’t let you… kahh–kahh– slip away again..!”

Plague Knight snickered, “Hee! Slow down, old-timer! It’s clearly time you– heehee– hit the bricks!”

The old man continued to crawl stubbornly towards him, fumbling in his robes for something. He winced as his hands seemed to close around something, and he drew out the top of a broken beaker.

“…Ah! My potions! No..!”

Plague Knight frowned. He scampered forwards to get a better look at the broken bottle. As he did so, he noticed a strange pattern sewn into the old man’s robes. Alchemical symbols..?

“Wait a moment… You’re an alchemist..!” he hissed, recoiling. 

This was most certainly not one of his minions, and nobody else in The Valley knew much about alchemy. So…

“Kahh… Damn right, I’m an alchemist,” wheezed the old man, barely able to speak for hoarse gasps of air and coughing, “I was an alchemist… before you were born, you wretched raven!”

Plague Knight’s gut twisted, sharply.

“And I won’t stop until… I’ve avenged my colleagues..!”

Plague Knight’s gut twisted further. 

“What? Colleagues? Who are you?” he demanded.

“Don’t you… recognize me?” gasped the old man. 

Plague Knight rolled his eyes under his mask, “Hee! I’m a busy man, you old coot. I’ve made hundreds of enemies. I can’t remember all of their ugly faces.”

“And how many of them were -kahh- fellow alchemists?”

Plague Knight crossed his arms, “None.”

“Did you forget so soon..? Did it mean… nothing to you? What you did to the Academy?! Kahh kahh…”

Plague Knight’s eyes widened, “Wait… Ballard the Bilious?”

“IT WAS ‘BRILLIANT’,” squawked the old man, “And no!! Kahh– You killed him, remember?!”

Plague Knight knit his eyebrows. Oh dear. He hadn’t realized the old bastard had died in the explosion. Though, now that he thought about it, it would have been pretty hard to survive. Mona’s alchemagical flames had consumed the building like a pile of kindling. It was lucky the student body and teachers had evacuated beforehand…

“Erm… Professor Twinning?”

“No!”

“…Mr. Splash..?”

“NO!!” 

Plague Knight wracked his brains. He hadn’t given much thought to the staff at the Academy; after all, he hadn’t exactly been there to learn. 

“Uhh… Heehee!”

“LANGLOG,” the man fairly screeched, “Professor… Omar Langlog! The history teacher! Kahh kahh…”

“Ohhh!” Plague Knight clutched at his beak and giggled, “I completely forgot, heehee! Your class was unimaginably boring.”

“Well, you… won’t soon forget again!” Langlog cried as menacingly as his collapsed lungs would let him, “I was the only one brave enough to… pursue you! Kahh! To punish you for what you… did! I trained and I studied for this day! I brewed -kahh kahh- the most ancient of transmutation potions to give me strength! And when I try again, I’ll -kahh- I’ll–“

Plague Knight stood over him, unimpressed. 

“Heh, you’re not actually going to pull that stunt again, are you? You can barely crawl. The combination of bricks and transformation fatigue’s nearly killed you, heehee! A well placed kick would probably cave your skull…”

This pronouncement caused Langlog to change his tune completely. He shied back, covering his head with his wrinkled old hands. 

“P-please don’t kill me!” he whimpered, “Kahh– T-the truth is– After the… Academy collapsed, all the… staff went off to work on their own! I didn’t -kahh kahh- have much practical alchemical knowledge, and nobody wanted to -kahh- listen to my lectures… and I’m too old to find a menial job! Ohh… The bounty on your head was raised so high, I thought… if I could catch you… I could live comfortably and have my revenge… kahh– all at once!”

Plague Knight couldn’t help but feel a sad little twinge of pity for the pathetic old geezer. All things considered, he’d made a decent attempt.

“Hee! Well. I must say, you made quite the impressive transmutation potion,” he admitted, “You’re not at all strong enough to handle its aftereffects, but the results themselves were amusingly destructive!”

The corners of Langlog’s bearded mouth twitched, and he sort of puffed out his chest, before curling over again and coughing. Blood mixed with the greenish spit leaking out of his mouth. Plague Knight sighed, quietly.

“…Heh. Well. Far be it for me to waste any sort of talent,” he muttered, grudgingly, “How about this? If you can stomach it.”

Plague Knight walked over to the cart, which still seemed to have some of the Magicist’s magic left in it, “Come work for me, and you can hone your alchemical skills, as well as make a living! Hee! But you’ll have to work under the man who ruined your life… and if you betray me, I’ll see you melting down to your base components in my vats, heehee..! So! What do you say..?”

Langlog was surprisingly quick to answer.

“I’ll take it! Kahh… Just don’t let me die! I-I never liked… the Academy that much anyway! Kahh-kahh– The other staff members never took me seriously…”

Plague Knight did his best to heave Langlog into the cart. The man was taller than him, and even though he was skinny and old, he still weighed a fair bit. Plague Knight knew it was dangerous to move someone in such terrible condition, but he didn’t have much choice. When he’d managed to load the old geezer into the cart, he mounted it himself and grabbed hold of the reigns.  
The vehicle moved much slower than it had during the chase, and Plague Knight suspected the locomotion spell on it was wearing off. Luckily, the effects finally faded just feet from the tavern, and Plague Knight was able to push the cart the rest of the way. He left it leaning against the wall outside and ducked into the tavern.

“Ehem– I could use some medical assistance!”

About fifteen minutes later, Langlog had been safely moved inside, and the Village healer had been sent for. Lisa the barkeep and the Magicist were keeping an eye on Langlog while they waited, tending to him with a cold compress and a stabilization brew. Plague Knight hoped he hadn’t wasted his forever-indebted favour from the Magicist on this idiot. He scowled at the jury-rigged cot where the aged professor lay and sighed through his nostrils. 

‘You’d better be worth it,’ he thought to himself. 

He wasn’t the type to help people out of the goodness of his heart, because more often than not, it backfired. But he was interested in the recipe for the old man’s transmutation potion, and as he’d said, he didn’t like wasting alchemical talent. 

Plague Knight suddenly remembered that Mona had wanted to see him before he left for the Explodatorium, and besides, he had no interest in spending anymore time in Langlog’s presence. So, dusting down his robes, he left the makeshift hospital scene and descended the ladder into the basement. Once below, he knocked on Mona’s wall. The bricks vanished, he entered, and they reappeared behind him again, sealing the exit.

“What’s going on, up there?” asked Mona from her lonely writing desk, “Everyone’s rushing about. I heard Lisa run off, just now, and she never leaves the bar at this time of day.”

“Heh. Had a little run in,” said Plague Knight, flicking a piece of gravel off his sleeve, “An old friend of ours decided to pay me a little -heehee!- visit.”

Mona’s eyebrows knit in confusion, and Plague Knight chuckled.

“You remember dear old professor Langlog, don’t you, Mona?”

Mona blanched.

“Wh… Langlog? From the Academy? Here?!”

“Hee! Yes! Turns out everyone went freelance after we blew up the Academy. Except for him. Apparently, nobody wanted to pay to hear him drone at them for six hours… What a surprise…”

Mona grimaced.

“And he blames me, heehee! He decided claiming the price on my head would end his money woes… and downed a transmutation potion to chase me! Of course, brute strength never wins out over superior intellect…”

“He transmutated? In the tavern?” said Mona, incredulously.

“No! No… Out in The Village streets, heehee– which isn’t much better.”

“Then why the commotion upstairs?”

“Oh, well… After I defeated him, I lugged him back here for ah, repairs, heh…”

Mona blinked in confusion, “Wh… Why?”

“Heh… Well. He’s just a harmless old man… Besides, he has a modicum of talent I can put to good use. Once he’s patched up– well… If he makes it, I’ll bring him up to the Explodatorium, and… Why are you smirking?”

Mona’s eyes were twinkling as she grinned at him.

“You’re going soft,” she sang, and Plague Knight flushed red.

“I am not!” he squawked, indignantly, balling his fists, “If I wasn’t so interested in that old beard-stand’s transmutation potion, I would have bombed him back to Humeheath myself!”

Mona’s smirk widened, “Then it’s purely for personal gain?”

“YES!” cried Plague Knight, exasperatedly. 

Mona snickered, “Ooh! I didn’t know I was working with such a selfish little bird. Are you taking advantage of me, too?”

Plague Knight blushed harder. The affectionate, teasing tone in her voice made his stomach wobble, and he suddenly remembered that he’d recently had something of an epiphany about his feelings towards her. Her words did hurt him a little, though; he didn’t like the idea of her thinking he was using her. He might have, perhaps, long ago when they’d first met. But things were different, now. Very different.

“O-of course not,” he mumbled, reproachfully, “You’re worth far more than the old sod. There’s no comparison.”

Mona’s grin faded, and a hint of tenderness replaced the mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“…Heh. I’m just teasing,” she said, looking down at her notebook and adjusting the position of her quill, “I packed up your bombs for you, by the way. I’d banish them to the Explodatorium so you wouldn’t have to carry them, but that might set them off, so…”

“Heh, I can handle it.”

Mona picked something up off her desk and approached Plague Knight. She was holding a small, cloth bag. She handed it to him, gently. 

“Take these, too.”

Plague Knight pulled the drawstring and peeked inside. He blinked in astonishment. The little bag contained nine green Cipher Coins.

“What… where..?”

“I only used eleven,” she said, nonchalantly, “And it really was too nice of you to give them all to me. You’re selfish, remember?”

Plague Knight fiddled with the coins. She was teasing him again. He was beginning to notice how easily that could set off his ’symptoms’. 

“Anyway. I want you to have them. I’ve got a lot of bugs to work out, down here. I think I’m going to set my sights on something a little more… mechanical. You should have some fun with these, okay?”

Plague Knight nodded, “I… Thank you, Mona. Heh… good luck with your engineering endeavours.”

Mona not-smiled at him, “Well, guess this is… see-you-later?”

“…Hee! Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for your patience and kind words; I had a great time on vacation, but now I can get back to updating this thing! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy chapter eleven! Delight in some silly stuff before everything goes to hell! -- TS


	12. The Apparition

Professor Langlog moved to the Explodatorium a month later. Plague Knight gave him one of the basement labs to experiment in, with a clear order to behave himself, or else. All things considered, Langlog seemed quite happy to obtain his new position, and reported to Plague Knight semi-regularly with his findings. He was slow, but steady, and unlike the minions, he could actually take care of himself in a lab setting. Plague Knight didn’t have to worry about him blowing himself up or melting a hole through the floors, though he did check in every once in a while to make sure the old man wasn’t still covertly trying to murder him for the reward money. 

Meanwhile, the Explodatorium was moving into its final stages of renovation. The halls were all solidly in place, overlooked by malevolent raven statues and protected by gauntlets of burner plates. The plumbing was hooked up to nearly every room, and while the basement still experienced current overflows and flash floods, they were much easier to get a handle on than previously. A delivery system for the purification potions had been set up, dropping the brews through chutes to detonate safely in the water supply without minion labour. This reduced workplace injuries and allowed the minions to focus on other, more important tasks. The labs, for example, were finally being set up properly. Rather than being ramshackle collections of tables and errant lab equipment, they were shaping up to be gleaming, state of the art workplaces stocked with everything a learning alchemist could need. Plague Knight’s makeshift lab in the northwest tower became something of a storeroom instead, as he moved his workspace down to the lowest floors above the sewers. Meanwhile, at this stage, Plague Knight could finally think about putting in proper creature comforts. Dormitories for the minions, a real mess hall and even an actual personal chamber for himself.

He set this up himself, preferring to keep his living place a secret from the minions so that they wouldn’t go bothering him at all hours of the day, or messing with his personal things. He built the room into a wall just above a sheer drop. A single catwalk extended towards it, only to cut off sharply just feet away. The only way in was to bomb-burst just so, and lob a bomb at the concealed doorway in. Plague Knight developed a special variation of alchemical lock for it, too; only a certain combination of explosive components would allow entry into the room. Applying the wrong kind of force simply did nothing, causing the attempted snooper to fall to the chamber below.   
Plague Knight wasn’t too worried, however; despite his and minion Eighty-two’s lessons, the minions were still having trouble with explosion-propelled flight. 

The inside of the room was fairly modest for the time being. Below a pair of high windows sat two large wardrobes to hold Plague Knight’s robes and masks. These stood on either side of a comfortable fold-up bed. By cranking a lever, a pair of chains could raise the bed up vertically against the wall and out of the way, and subsequently let it back down when he wanted to sleep… or bounce on it. The mattress was deliciously springy.   
The final piece of interest was a large glass sphere mounted on a furnace. The sphere contained a concoction of Oil of Vitriol and Aqua Vitae; by activating a spout and turning on the heat, Plague Knight could produce as much Sweet Vitriol as he liked. No longer would he need to brew it on the fly; he now had a heaping reserve conveniently at hand.   
He’d consulted Mona on several of the more mechanical aspects of his chambers, and she’d sent him plenty of pointers and advice. Plague Knight was beginning to get a certain grasp on engineering, though he was by no means confident. Besides, he liked having something to talk about with his partner, so the more questions needing asked, the better.

Mona, in addition to technical tips, had no shortage of news to tell him. The Village was in uproar. The most incredible -and disquieting- thing had occurred just miles away from its peaceful walls. An arrogant and ambitious capitol K Knight dressed in golden armour had stormed Pridemoor keep and deposed the beloved monarch, cutting a swath of glittering destruction in his wake. Despite the best efforts of the King’s guard, the decadent dandy rammed his way through their ranks, sending them running with their -sometimes metaphorical, other times literal- tails between their legs.

None of the Villagers considered this ‘King Knight’, as he called himself, to be their new sovereign, but there was no denying his power. And besides… rumours were spreading that the twenty-four-carat Knight had allied himself with a strange and mysterious woman known as the Enchantress, who had appeared suddenly, out of nowhere. Her enigmatic origins and rumoured magical prowess were only part of the reason her name caused stirs among the populace. Enchantresses and Enchanters had been thought to be a dead folk, lost to the ages after the last great one had been sealed away hundreds of years ago. Some said the moniker was just that; an intimidating name to frighten away foes. Others were not so optimistic.   
A dark shadow seemed to be falling over the land, and no hero was strong enough to stand against it. The Valley’s greatest champions, the Blue Burrower and the Scarlet Sentry, had disappeared on a mission to the eastern-most point of the land. Some believed them dead, while others believed them grievously injured and laying low. Either way, neither were available to deal with this wicked King Knight.

Mona, however, was unfazed. She was quite flippant in her descriptions of events, adding droll little asides and commentaries. She found it amusing that the keep’s men hadn’t been able to hold off a single Knight, and that everyone was so worried about some shadowy woman who was probably just an overdramatic mage with good publicity. Plague Knight enjoyed her wry take on the situation, and wished he had something equally entertaining to tell her about. Oh well. Hopefully the mechanical questions were enjoyable enough for her to answer. He had a feeling, from the way she explained each of the solutions in great detail, that Mona loved teaching as much as he did. 

Plague Knight didn’t have much time to dwell on her letters, however. As usual, about ten different things were going wrong at once, and all of them needed his attention.   
Plague Knight descended amongst his minions, directing them to clean up spills here and mend shrapnel damage there. It seemed the problem area today was the commissions lab, which was most unsatisfactory. The commissions lab was the heart of the Explodatorium, or rather, the coin purse. It was there that Plague Knight’s organization made its money, which funded its renovations and experiments, and was therefor top priority when it came to making sure things did not fall apart.  
Plague Knight bustled down the halls to the commissions lab to find its team huddled outside, whispering anxiously to each other.

“Boss!”

“Oh, boss! There’s the boss!”

“Yes, yes, what is it?” called Plague Knight, impatiently, “Why are you all standing around? We’ve got orders to fill, heehee!”

“It’s, um…”

The minions shuffled, nervously, “It’s, uhh… P-promise not to get mad, boss…”

“I can’t promise that,” said Plague Knight, truthfully, “Nonetheless, out with it!”

“Errr… There’s bugs, sir.”

Plague Knight paused.

“Bugs?”

“Yes, er… Very large bugs, sir.”

Plague Knight sighed harshly and ran a hand down his beak, “Didn’t I give a seminar on dealing with Beetos just the other day? Three easy steps! See the Beeto, bomb the Beeto, get on with your work, heehee!”

“Er, yeah, yes, boss,” said one of the minions, “Only…”

“…it’s not Beetos!” finished another, fearfully. 

Plague Knight frowned, “Then what is it, exactly?”

The minions pointed through the door, and Plague Knight sighed. He couldn’t believe he was being asked by a group of grown adults to go squish a bug.   
Plague Knight entered the chamber and gazed around. Alchemical equipment was left sitting in their places, clearly abandoned in a great hurry. There were a few smashed vials, and several bunsen burners had been left on. Plague Knight clucked his tongue disapprovingly and went to shut off the hazardous flames.   
As he did so, he thought he heard a soft hum of wings. He turned, curiously, and found himself staring at some kind of… creature. It was reminiscent of a large, fat moth. It had a grey, shaggy body with tiny, stubby legs and long, feather-like antennae. Four bluish wings whirred at its back, keeping it afloat in the air, and it moved very slowly, hovering down to greet Plague Knight as he stared. It was almost cute, in a weird, insectoid way. 

“Heehee! Hello, there!” he called, “You’re not what everyone’s afraid of, are you?”

The insect continued to waft towards him, rising and falling gently. Plague Knight sighed. His minions were such boobs. They worked daily with chemicals that could melt them into jellies, yet they were afraid of a little–  
The creature suddenly open its mouth, which was far, far bigger than expected. The inside was populated by a full set of large, jarringly human-looking teeth. With a loud CLACK CLACK CLACK, it snapped its teeth menacingly and dove at Plague Knight.

The little alchemist leapt back in terror, and tossed a bomb at his attacker. Upon contact, the insect exploded into a cloud of fluffy grey scales and teeth. Plague Knight shuddered as molars and incisors clattered to the ground. To his horror, the echoes of his blast were quickly being replaced by more buzzing, heralding the approach of more of these monstrosities.   
Plague Knight quickly equipped himself with lob casings and began hurling bombs left and right. Explosions echoed through the lab, and showers of teeth and fur rained down over the equipment. Plague Knight did his best to protect the alchemical projects, keeping them from being contaminated, but it was no easy task. By the time the entire swarm was defeated, Plague Knight was quite stressed out.  
He staggered back into the hallway, dusty with scales, and leaned against the wall.

“…Right. Bugs. Heehee… I understand.”

The minions sighed in relief.

“It’s Fairies, sir,” said one, pushing their glasses up their beak, “They tend to infest places with lots of metals.” 

“Fairies? Heehee! What a ridiculous name! I've never met anything less magical in my life!”

“You’ve never seen a Fairy, boss?”

Plague Knight shook his head, “Heh, they must be a native species…”

The minions nodded. Plague Knight sighed and tipped away from the wall, brushing off his robes, and picking a canine out of his sleeve, “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to read up on them and decide how best to deal with them… In any case! Back to work! There’s a lot of… teeth in there, so watch your feet!”

 

Plague Knight dutifully rushed off to find out as much as possible about fairies. They were carnivorous, and their strength lay in their powerful jaws and quickly growing numbers. They were, however, slow and weak, easily dispatched by sufficient force. Plague Knight supposed he’d have to delegate at least one minion per lab to guard against invading fairies. Plague Knight spent a week calling minions away from their jobs one at a time to see how accurately they could hit targets. He soon amassed a small group of nimble sharpshooters who could fend off the nasty grey encroachers, and shield any projects from the dusty aftermath.   
It wasn’t a perfect solution, by any means; Plague Knight would rather fumigate the entire castle and destroy the vermin once and for all. Unfortunately, it would take far too long to evacuate the Explodatorium, and the resulting chemical fog would take even longer to dispel after the fact. They simply didn’t have the time. 

“As if I didn’t have enough to worry about,” groused Plague Knight, as he stationed his fairy-fender-offers throughout the labs, equipping them each with a sufficient stock of bombs. 

To his relief, however, his little crack team proved to be fairly effective, and most fairy attacks happened in the corridors or sleeping areas. This wasn’t optimal, but at least it wouldn’t affect productivity. Plague Knight instructed his minions to keep vigilant for the floating pests, then put the problem out of his mind. There were other things to focus on. 

One such thing arrived several weeks later, in the form of one of Mona’s letters. 

“Dear Plague Knight

You’ll never guess what happened today. I was in my room, as usual, looking over the most recent minion applications, when the bar erupted in chaos. I took a peek outside, and who should being arriving, but none other than the deposed King?! Nobody’s seen him since the sacking of Pridemoor keep, so everyone assumed he’d died, or something. Apparently not, though. He seems to be fairly unharmed, other than looking pretty crushed. A monarch without a crown is a sad sight to behold. Lisa’s putting him up here for the duration of his, well. Deposition. Seems like an odd choice of residence for a King, but he seems to like this place.

Anyway, it got me thinking. We’re in the King’s good books, aren’t we? And we could always use some more cash. Why don’t we offer him a little firepower, to take back the keep from that gilded goon? I doubt even the strongest Knight can outwit exothermic excellence like ours. The King gets his throne back, we get rewarded handsomely, that arrogant Knight gets put in his place… it’s win-win-… well, lose, for him, heheh. What do you think?

If you’re up for it, I’ll make the trip up and we can discuss it in person.

Time for research!

Mona.”

 

Oh, sweet, opportunistic Mona. Of course she’d hatch a fiendish idea like that. Plague Knight pressed the letter to his breast and kicked his legs, gleefully. He nearly tripped over himself to reply, instructing the Mail Minion to move as quickly as he could. 

“I want her up here by day’s end, heehee!” he called after the frantically scurrying courier.

After the man was gone, Plague Knight gave a little sigh and melted into his chair. As usual, he was anxious to see his beloved partner once again. But this time was a little different; this time he was aware of a new reason he was so eager to reunite with her.  
Plague Knight had been doing his best, whenever he had the free time, to study up on the subject of Love. There weren’t exactly many textbooks on it, however. Rather, Plague Knight found that the greatest repository of knowledge on the emotion was contained exclusively in poetry. There were thousands upon thousands of romantic texts, crammed into compendiums or wrapped up in bundles of scrolls.   
Plague Knight was not usually the sentimental type, but he couldn’t help but get a little lost in the depth of feeling conveyed by all that purple prose. He found himself wandering a sunny, perfumed world of gazes, embraces and impatience. And longing. Oh, so much longing; a lot of poems did not concern the happy couple, but the pining lovesick fool, chasing after their sweetheart on a seemingly endless course. Plague Knight found himself identifying with these the most, unfortunately. After all, the more he thought about it, the more he felt himself behind Mona… and she did have such terribly long legs.   
But, as the poems often said, the pursuit was worth the pain. Yes; Mona was worth the squeezing, clenching feeling deep in his chest, as well as all the other discomforts falling in love seemed to have provided. He would staunchly continue along the path to that sweet summer place… even if it did feel a tad absurd that he might ever actually make it there.

Plague Knight shook his head, dispelling the fluffy pink clouds drifting around it. No time to get lost in his reveries; he had to prepare for Mona’s visit and the possibility of a very large ballistic order. Plague Knight went to visit the basement labs, to plan out a secondary bomb production space. Plague Knight himself usually took care of that particular job, though he’d begun delegating it to minions, as of late. He’d have to recruit a new team for this job, or move his old team down to work on the commission and train up the new team to replace them.   
Just as Plague Knight was returning to his personal chambers to collect some of his recipes, he was accosted by an out-of-breath minion. 

“Boss– hhh– b-boss! Hhh…”

“Hee? What’s the matter? I’m busy, bother me late–“

“Boss, there’s… intruder… hhh… up through the sewers… hhh… can’t hold him off, he’s coming… hhh…”

Plague Knight stiffened.

“What kind of intruder?”

“Don’t know… hhh… didn’t see… Number fifty-eight sent me… hhh… Got beat up real bad… Guy’s got a… hhh… terrible blade… Boss, we need your help..!”

An icy shiver ran down Plague Knight’s spine. Mona was due at the Explodatorium at any time. He couldn’t risk her getting in the way of an aggressor, and he didn’t want anymore minion casualties either.

“Get everyone out of there. Leave him to the lab hazards. I’ll take care of it.”

The minion gave a deep sigh of relief and hastened off to warn his fellows.

“And intercept the Mail Minion when he returns! Keep him and his guest out of the line of fire at all costs!” Plague Knight shouted after the retreating figure.

He turned back on his path, cracking his spindly knuckles. Time to dish out a little punishment.   
He entered his room quickly, and slipped into his closet, donning his overlarge robes. Then he threw open a nearby cabinet and withdrew a bottle of blue liquid. A perfect time to put his transmutation potions to good use. Removing his mask, he swallowed the stuff back and contorted as the brew worked its alchemy.   
Once he was stable enough to balance, he proceeded to his rack of masks and took down the largest one, then affixed it over his face. 

“Someone’s going to have a very… explosive evening, heehee!”

As luck would have it, Plague Knight heard metallic footsteps on the catwalk just outside his room. He burst down to the chamber below and hid himself behind one of the many stone columns, waiting for his aggressor to show himself. He peeked out from his hiding place as he heard a clanking thud nearby.   
A figure was standing in the chamber, illuminated faintly by the flickering torches. He was tall, nearly as tall as Mona, with an unnaturally thin and skeletal build. The armour he wore was a pale bronze colour, decorated with strange, rib-like patterns here and there. He was wrapped in a tattered crimson cloak, and a huge, wickedly sharp scythe was clutched in one boney hand. Even from where Plague Knight stood, he could feel an aura of cold emanating from the man. This was no ordinary knight.

“What? Hee hee, wow, someone call the embalmer, this one’s past its prime!” crowed Plague Knight mischievously from his hiding place, “What are you even doing here?”

“Show yourself!” hissed the intruder, turning sharply in an attempt to find his target. The man’s voice was ethereal; deep and booming, yet simultaneously high and whispering, and it sent a chill down Plague Knight’s spine, “I’ve come to offer you the position of court alchemist… to The Enchantress.”

Plague Knight’s eyebrows knit. The Enchantress? Then, was this knight the man who’d taken Pridemoor keep? But that didn’t seem right; from Mona’s description, King Knight was a boisterous, showy man in golden armour. This… spectre was nothing like that. 

“Join us, and Her army of invincible Knights!”

Plague Knight sneered, “Oh, you don’t say? Sounds important. Invisible Knights? Tell me more. Hee hee hee ha ha hah! BOOM!”

Plague Knight chose that moment to use a telebomb to transport himself to the space immediately behind the knight. He stood cockily, one hand casually on his staff, the other tossing one of his explosives high into the air and catching it, waiting for his enemy to spin around in surprise. To his annoyance, the knight did not turn as he had before, instead folding his arms and looking pointedly away. 

“You are clearly not paying attention,” he murmured, disdainfully, before his voice raised to a snarl, “Perhaps my scythe will get through to you!”

In the next second, the knight had moved with inhuman speed, slashing his weapon in an arc behind him. Plague Knight, luckily, had been anticipating such a move the moment the man had refused to turn around. He leapt into the air, vaulting over his enemy and tossing down a bomb. The knight leapt deftly out of the way and readied his blade once more, skidding across the stones with a fountain of sparks.

Plague Knight couldn’t rely too much on his agility during this battle, as his opponent was uncommonly fast. Instead, Plague Knight changed his strategy to confusion and intimidation; he used Mona’s telebombs to great effect, popping around the arena and tossing bombs every which way. He had to be quick on the uptake when he reappeared, to get his bearings in an instant and home in on his target. The knight leapt after him nimbly, tucking and rolling through the air like some kind of acrobat. 

For every hit his bombs landed on the enemy, Plague Knight felt the knick of the knight’s scythe in his robes. It seemed they were evenly matched… time to shake things up even more.  
On the next teleport, Plague Knight dropped a Copy bomb, and suddenly there were two Plague Knights leaping and darting around the arena. As luck would have it, the knight barrelled after the imitation, and Plague Knight used the opportunity to chuck a Cascade bomb directly at him.   
Even as Plague Knight’s Copy was destroyed, the knight was consumed by pink flames. He shrieked and tumbled to the ground, trying to stifle the raging fire. Plague Knight cackled gleefully and bomb bursted into the air to give him another.

This was where things started to go wrong. With a grunt of exertion, the knight pushed off the ground, leaping towards Plague Knight’s arc with his scythe at the ready. In a single, fluid motion, the knight curved his blade around Plague Knight’s body, slicing through his robes and flinging himself into the air. Plague Knight felt his lungs flatten as the blow dragged him against his burst, tossing him in the other direction. He craned his neck around just in time to see the knight hit the wall, push off of it, and come at him again. Another slash of his scythe sent Plague Knight hurtling towards the ground. He hit it with a loud thud, rolling heavily over the stones. He lay there, momentarily stunned.   
Luckily for him, his enemy was all the way on the other side of the room. It took him just long enough to cross it for Plague Knight to come to his senses and teleport away, dropping two more Copy bombs in his wake. Three Plague Knights bounced around the arena, but only one of them took a heavy gulp of Sweet Vitriol to steady his nerves. Two wedge-shaped slices had been cut out of his torso, and were bleeding freely. If Plague Knight didn’t end this quickly, he would be in trouble.

As his Copies were cruelly dispatched, Plague Knight used his staff to summon a vat from the labs. He didn’t care about the damage to the room; he had to destroy his enemy before it was too late. He wound up and tossed a bomb into the vat, causing its contents to detonate violently, sending broken glass and vitriol everywhere. The knight was knocked off his feet, and his scythe flew out of his hands, spinning wildly across the room.  
Plague Knight grinned under his mask. Success! He jogged towards the fallen knight, intent on finishing him off. As he approached, he saw the knight raise his hand into the air, fingers outstretched as if for aid.

“Hee! Giving up so soon?” Plague Knight crowed, triumphantly, “Asking for help? Or would you rather I end your torment instea–“

Plague Knight’s taunt was cut off by a sudden blow to the legs from behind that knocked him flat on his back. His skull hit the ground with a sickening crack and he saw stars. He only really registered what had happened when the knight was standing over him, holding his scythe in one emaciated hand. The weapon must have circled back around, somehow, returning to its infernal master. Plague Knight tried to conjure another vat to protect himself, but the knight slammed the butt of his scythe into Plague Knight’s chest before he could utter the incantation. Plague Knight choked as the wind was forced out of his lungs again, and struggled fruitlessly as the scythe was pressed harshly down against his ribs.

“Foolish alchemist,” growled the knight, “You should not have tested me.”

“Heh… test…” Plague Knight wheezed, “Because I’m a… scientist… right?”

This earned him a swift stomp to the kneecap, which caused him to give up a yelp of agony.

“Accept my invitation,” ordered the knight, “Join the Enchantress and Her Order… or perish in vain.” 

Plague Knight was about to defiantly tell the ghoul he could slice him to ribbons for all he cared, but then rational thought overrode his pride. There was too much at stake for him to die. He’d come too far and worked too hard to let it end here, and… and he needed to see Mona again. The thought of her face pushed just enough fire into his heart for him to swallow his fury and humiliation. Whatever trouble he got himself into, there was always a way out so long as he had breath in his lungs and thoughts in his head. He had to return to Mona. He had to.

“Very well…” he choked, loathing present in his every syllable, “I’ll join your Order. I’ll serve your… Enchantress.”

As he spoke, the knight eased the pressure of his scythe and drew a small, glittering object from his cloak. As he did so, Plague Knight felt something come away from his body, leaving him feeling very oddly indeed. Whatever had been taken from him, every part of his being screamed that it should not have been.   
The glittering object glowed softly as the knight tucked it back into its place, then withdrew his weapon entirely.

“Rest well, alchemist,” he hissed, scornfully, “Drink your precious potions so that you may be presentable when you are summoned to the Tower…” 

With that, the knight disappeared in a whirl of his red cape, stifling the torches on the walls. Plague Knight was left in darkness, which grew even darker as he lost his grip on his consciousness. His last thoughts were focused on someplace safe, as he dropped one final teleportation bomb and disappeared in a burst of green smoke. 

\- - -

The sound of groaning was the first thing that welcomed Plague Knight back into the waking world. It was followed by an intense ache in every inch of his body, the coppery taste of blood, and the strong smell of chemicals. The last to arrive was his sight. His eyes fluttered open and brought the world fuzzily into focus. He was in the medical wing. He could just make out rows of beds beyond him, hosting several languishing minions tended to by their healthy coworkers. They were emitting the groaning sound he’d woken to.   
Plague Knight shifted, and suddenly realized that his hand was caught in something. He turned to see that it was clasped tightly in a pair of green ones, fingers curled like the teeth of a bear trap around his own. Mona was sitting at his bedside, bent double, her head resting on the mattress beside him. Plague Knight’s heart twinged. Just like the Griffoth incident all that time ago…   
As he moved further, Mona stirred and looked up at him with wide, green eyes. Her face was ashen and her lips were pressed into a thin line, which broke as she spoke to him.

“Plague Knight…”

“Mona… What… kghh…”

“Don’t speak. You’re badly hurt,” she said, seriously, quickly dropping his hand and drawing away from him, “We did our best to make you comfortable, but I was–wasn’t– sure if–…”

She trailed off, thickly, and stood up. When she returned, she was holding large bottle of stabilizer.

“Do you think you can drink this?” she asked, leaning over him again.

Plague Knight tested his ability to swallow. It seemed functional enough.

“Prop me up…” he wheezed, “Can’t… drink on my back…”

Mona obeyed, moving him as gently as she possibly could. The wounds in his torso throbbed painfully, but the dressing that had been applied during his unconsciousness did its job and held everything in place. He was able to sit up against the pillows in his cot and gulp down the stabilizer. The sudden addition of so much liquid to his tired body made him feel slightly queasy, but he did his best to ignore the feeling and wait for his body to begin mending itself. Mona was sitting next to him again. In a flash of blue, she summoned a piece of paper and folded it into a fan.  
Just like last time. Just like last time…

Plague Knight felt his throat constrict. Mona’s face was impassive, yet he could see something glittering in her eyes. Something that kept making her purse her lips and clench her jaw. Every time she looked at him, she looked away, quickly.   
It must be disappointment, he thought, miserably. After all, what else could it be? He was a disappointment. A pathetic fool who’d been beaten by some arrogant knight. He’d been getting so cocky, so sure of himself… and the universe had finally decided to put him back in his place. To remind him of who he really was beneath all the smoke and mirrors. A feeble, sickly creature that relied on cheap tricks to survive.   
Usually, Plague Knight confidently championed his intellect over any sort of physical force, sneering derisively down his beak at those less clever than he. But now, laying half-dead in the medical cot and much diminished in the beautiful green eyes of his beloved, he was unable to muster his usual bravado. Unable to drown out the incessant, shadowy voices at the back of his mind. 

Useless. Worthless. Weak. 

The voices only grew as the usual fever took hold, and before he knew it they were deafening. He shut his eyes and wished he could press his hands over his ears to drown them out, but he knew that would just make them louder. There was no way to escape his own skin. 

“…hear me? Plague Knight, please focus on me. Can you hear me?”

Mona was speaking to him. He opened his bleary eyes and turned his head slightly. He saw Mona relax as she noticed his movement.

“Heh… I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

“It’s alright,” Mona said, a hint of gentleness slipping into her monotonous voice, “I just want to make sure I don’t… Make sure the fever doesn’t…” 

She swallowed and ran a hand across her brow, “Just want to make sure you’re… still here.”

Plague Knight nodded, slowly. His dark thoughts from earlier continued to badger him, and from these arose a new, urgent realization. Plague Knight flinched, and so did Mona.

“P-Plague–?!”

“Mona– kghh– Mona, listen–” he gasped, “That… That knight…”

“He’s gone now, it’s okay,” said Mona, leaning over him and attempting to stop him from exerting himself, “He didn’t manage to cause any severe injuries– Langlog’s got the worst of it besides you, but–“

“No, Mona, you don’t… understand,” wheezed Plague Knight, “The knight… He wanted… He wanted… me…”

“He– H-huh..?”

“He wanted me… to join him… To join H–Her…”

“Who? Who’s Her?”

“The… The Enchantress…”

Mona’s eyes flashed.

“Wh… You’re kidding. You mean, that was King..?”

“No– I don’t think so…” Plague Knight shook his head weakly, “Too gaunt… You said, boisterous… golden armour?”

“Yes.”

“This one… heh, red cloak… very dour. He said… He said…” his heart sank even further, “Wanted me for …Position of… Court Alchemist. I… I…”

He hung his head in shame. Mona would never forgive him. Or– and the possibility only just struck him, turning his misery into agony– she would leave and never come back. But to his surprise, Mona cut in, suddenly. 

“You said yes. But Plague Knight, he– if that’s why he was here, if that’s why he was attacking everyone, then if you’d refused–” her voice broke and she tried again, “If you… …You had to accept.”

“Heh… heh… I’m s…”

Mona placed her hand tentatively over his, again.

“You had to,” she murmured.

Plague Knight curled his fingers around Mona’s and clung on as if she were the last solid entity in the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dare I say dun-dun-dun? Well, I'm sure you saw it coming from the chapter title. Anyway, we're officially into the 'act two' of sorts, and I'm really glad you've all stuck with me! Thanks so much, and seeya next chapter! --TS


	13. An Imposition of Order

While Plague Knight spent the next few weeks recovering, Mona took over guardianship of the Explodatorium, making his rounds for him and generally keeping everything in order. At first, Plague Knight was a little worried. It wasn’t that he thought his partner incapable of handling the various challenges of running such a large operation. Mona was in charge specifically because he considered her talents on par with his own. She was the only person he trusted to be in charge. But it wasn’t an easy job by any means. Mona was used to being cloistered away in her little room at the bar; dealing with the constant buffoonery of the minions would surely wear on her. And then there was the worry that they might not respect her authority…   
To his surprise, however, the minions seemed to have taken a shine to Mona. Whenever he saw her -either when she passed by the infirmary or came in to visit him- she was always surrounded by a gaggle of at least five of them, all carrying objects and asking questions. Mona, for her part, seemed to be putting up with them quite peaceably. 

“Have the minions been giving you any trouble, heehee?”

“No, not at all. They’re… not the sharpest tools in the box, I’ll grant, but they’re not actively antagonistic…” 

This was at least one worry off Plague Knight’s mind, which was a good thing. He had so many to contend with already. He had yet to tell the minions of their new allegiance, and what it would mean for the future. He also wasn’t making much headway on any escape plans. There was always the option of simply making a run for it, but judging by the calibre of knight already at the mysterious organization’s disposal, Plague Knight had a feeling they would not escape unscathed. Besides, abandoning all they’d worked for would set them back enormously. And Plague Knight hated setbacks. Almost as much as he hated being caught… which was what had happened.  
During Plague Knight’s bandit days, he’d been famed for his slipperiness. No man nor beast nor prison could contain him, and no matter how badly he was injured, he always slipped away into the night before the final blow could land. But now Plague Knight was bedridden, sitting through a gruelling recovery, and expected at his new position the moment he recovered. 

Exactly the moment, in fact. Plague Knight tried to falsely prolong his illness, trying to buy himself time to think of some kind of escape clause. But, barely a day after he’d recovered enough to walk, he was visited once again by the wraithlike knight.   
Plague Knight had just made the arduous trip to his personal chambers, when a whirling red vortex opened in the air above his bed. The little alchemist panicked, grabbed one of his transmutation potions, and hurled himself into his closet to transform as the knight warped unceremoniously into his bedroom. 

“Show yourself, alchemist. I know you are here.”

Plague Knight shuddered as his legs and arms lengthened, his skull expanding and his torso widening. 

“Hee..! You caught me dressing, you pervert! How impertinent! You should warn a man before you barge into his chambers unannounced!!”

There was an unamused hiss from outside, but the doors of the wardrobe were not thrust open, so Plague Knight assumed he would be allowed to change into his larger clothing in peace. When he emerged, the skeletal knight was standing at the end of his bed, arms folded. His intimidating stance was ruined somewhat by the familiar surroundings, as well as the sound of Bertram squeaking from his cage. Plague Knight hastened to comfort the little animal, and the knight watched him go in annoyance.

“Tend to your vermin later, alchemist,” he growled, “You must pay your due to the Order.”

“Hee! I have a name, you know,” Plague Knight replied, unconcernedly, not even bothering to turn away from his panicking rodent, “I am Plague Knight. And I’ll thank you to stop scaring my vermin with your death-smell.”

Another angry hiss. There was a a whistle and a thud. Plague Knight spun around to see the knight’s enormous scythe stuck into the decorative carving in his headboard. Plague Knight scowled.

“So impatient, heehee! Am I needed this very moment? Does your precious sorceress have a pressing alchemical emergency?”

“The Enchantress requires a tribute of manpower,” growled the knight, “You are to summon eight of your servants to the Tower.”

“If I’m a part of this Order of yours, aren’t all my minions at your disposal, now? Why the Tower? Why eight?”

“Cease your foolish questioning, and do as my master commands!” snarled the knight. 

Plague Knight sighed and gently poked a bit of broccoli through the bars of Bertram’s cage.

“Very well. I’ll go gather my minions. Perhaps you could remove your great big knife from my bed while I’m at it, heehee? It’s a headboard, not a cheeseboard, hahaha!”

The knight raised his hand, and his scythe jumped into it with a crunch, sending splinters everywhere. Plague Knight was glad the knight couldn’t see past his mask as he fumed. This was a clear act of intimidation… a taunt. Plague Knight gripped his staff a little tighter and made his way into the halls of the Explodatorium.  
As he did so, he felt a cold presence follow him. He turned to see the knight hovering behind him.

“Hee! Micromanaging me already? I can choose my men on my own, thanks.” 

“You are untrustworthy, alchemist,” was the only reply given. 

Plague Knight clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to let this overgrown boneclang anywhere near Mona. He deliberately took as many roundabout pathways as possible, hopping over burners and cauldrons and avoiding all of the larger labs where Mona might be making her rounds. As he went, he accosted any minion he happened to pass, and added them one by one to his little procession.  
The minions were extremely disquieted at the presence of the deathly knight. The story of his first visit had already made its rounds, and the minions were eager to keep away from the creature that had soundly beaten the boss to near death.  
Nevertheless, Plague Knight eventually had seven fearful minions and one very nervous professor trooping along behind him. 

“Here, that’s eight,” he said as he yanked hard on the last one’s robes to stop him running away, “I suppose you have some kind of transportation w––“

The knight drew his crimson cloak around him with a flourish, and as he did so, Plague Knight felt a painful tug in his gut. The next moment, he found himself at a small table set with expensive dinnerware. Candelabras sent their flickering light glancing off goblets full of juice and dishes piled high with cooked chicken. Looking beyond this, Plague Knight could see he had been taken to an enormous chamber of jet black stone. Everything from the walls to the columns supporting the ceilings were carved with intricate designs. Elegant potted plants sat in shadowy alcoves, and fine silk drapes framed the large window behind him. The view out of it was spectacular, overlooking the entire Valley. Stepping cautiously around the table, Plague Knight realized he was on a raised platform. Leaning over the edge, he could see a floor below, populated by tables and chairs, as if it were some kind of restaurant… or bar.   
His minions were gathered in a fearful gaggle below, all looking about frantically. A steady flow of diverse characters were edging around them, intent on doing whatever they were doing. One of the minions looked up, then, and spotted Plague Knight peeking down at them.

“It’s boss!”

“Oh, look!”

“Boss, what’s going on?!”

Plague Knight sighed.

“Hee! Worry not, my minions! We’ve… made something of a little business deal with these… kind people,” Plague Knight tried not to sound too bitter as he spoke, “You are all being stationed here as part of the agreement. I assure you, no harm will come to you!”

‘If I have anything to say about it,’ he thought, ruefully. He wasn’t letting some upstart witch push his minions around. That was his job.

“Go on, explore!” called Plague Knight, “Hee! Make some friends! I’m sure someone will fill you in… eventually.”

The minions seemed slightly comforted by his words, and began moving around the area in a cautious little clump. Professor Langlog hobbled straight for a barstool, where a few other residents of the tower welcomed him, gruffly.  
Satisfied that they would be alright, Plague Knight edged back to the table and sat down, hesitantly, drumming his fingers over the lacy cloth on top. He was just about as clueless as his minions about what to do with himself. Luckily, he heard a familiar clanking and turned to see the knight vault into the dining area from parts unknown. 

“This tower is seeing a… heh… BURST of activity, lately,” he called, slyly, as the knight approached, “Business is… BOOMING. Uhhh, I’m having… HEE HEE! A BLAST!”

The knight uttered yet another hiss of contempt. Plague Knight tittered vindictively. 

“Silence. You find yourself in the antechamber. This is where you will be summoned when the Enchantress has need of you. One of Her personal servants will escort you from here.”

“Like you, you mean?” Plague Knight replied, casually.

The knight did not take the bait, but Plague Knight noticed him stiffen, somewhat. 

“You may tarry here until you have eaten your fill,” said the spectre, disdainfully, “Then you will return to your lab.”

“Heh, just send me back now,” said Plague Knight, “I’m not hungry.”

“You will eat,” instructed the knight, sharply, “As bidden by the Enchantress. She sends Her personal regards with this meal! It shall not be refused.”

Plague Knight eyed the food suspiciously. 

“Wow, heehee! What a funny way of showing hospitality. Fine.”

Plague Knight made a show of tearing strips off the chicken with his talons and melting them down alchemically to be swallowed through one of his straws. Despite his misgivings, he didn’t seem to notice any problems with the meal, and it did taste quite good. Though, he supposed it could be enchanting him and he’d be none the wiser. 

When he was full, he yawned and stretched obnoxiously.

“Good gracious! What a scrumptious spread! I could hardly eat another… drop, heehee! Send me home, now.”

“Hmph.”

The knight beckoned Plague Knight to follow him, and he did so. The knight lead him down from the balcony dining area to the bar below, and then to another room occupied by a single, enormous scrying glass. Plague Knight marvelled at its size and majesty. It was as intricately carved as everything else, and powered by several huge jewels set ornately into the top. There was an attendant standing by it, wrapped in an elaborate black and red robe. Plague Knight felt his malevolent stare on him and narrowed his eyes. 

“Hee! Never seen an alchemist before, boy?”

There was a whistle as the knight’s scythe came down between Plague Knight and the young man. 

“Don’t speak to him,” hissed the knight, irately. 

Plague Knight noticed that he sounded angrier than he ever had before. Not merely disapproving or scornful, but genuinely furious. Plague Knight smirked.

“This is your boss, eh, kid?” asked Plague Knight, ignoring the scythe-barrier and staring defiantly into the attendant’s burning red eyes, “Is he always this grumpy, or did he accidentally stick his scythe up his––“

The attendant suddenly uttered a cold chuckle.

“I thought alchemists were supposed to be smart?” he spat, derisively, “You have it backwards, fool. Now shut your beak and fly back to your little castle.” 

Plague Knight matched the brat’s laugh note for note, turning gleefully to the knight, “Hee! You mean this little punk is your–“

He was interrupted once more by the knight tearing his scythe out of the ground and swiftly using it to pick Plague Knight up by his hood.

“I believe you were told to shut your beak,” he growled, before tossing him at the surface of the colossal mirror. 

It rippled queerly as Plague Knight passed through it, simultaneously feeling solid and gaseous at once. The next moment, Plague Knight found himself outside the Explodatorium, sitting in a puddle of mud. 

\- - -

Upon his return, Plague Knight set to preparing a speech for the minions. He had to impress upon them the serious nature of their predicament without frightening them too much. He didn’t want them thinking this was some kind of advantageous new partnership, but he also didn’t want them to believe they were all going to become slaves to some kind of tyrannical regime. Despite the latter becoming increasingly likely, from the look of the Tower and the nature of the knights that served it, Plague Knight refused to be owned in such a way. He would devise some kind of clever solution… eventually. But for now, he had to explain everything to his workforce.

Once he was satisfied with his speech, he gathered his minions in the main chamber. As he spoke, a wave of unease spread insidiously across the chamber like a potion spill. When he completed his oration, the assembled green and pink figures rustled and whispered nervously. 

“Um, boss? Does this mean, uh… that we won’t be doing any more commissions?” called one of the minions.

“Forget commissions– what’re the Villagers gonna think of us when we join up with the guy who sacked Pridemoor?! We’re gonna be pariahs!” 

“Boss– Who’s this Enchantress anyway? Is she a real enchantress?!”

A babble of voices soon rose, all asking questions that Plague Knight couldn’t quite answer. Plague Knight banged his staff loudly on the floor to silence them.

“Minions! Do you really think I’m going to take all this lying down?”

He could swear he heard one minion mumble “Well, you’ve been lying down for the last two weeks…” Plague Knight dearly wished he could identify them so that he could have them thrown into a vat of vitriol. 

“Heehee! You think too little of me… for my own underlings. Worry not! I shall take care of everything. Your job is simply to be quiet and go along with whatever this Order desires for the time being. That’s not too difficult, even for all of you, I trust..?”

The minions continued to mutter, but a few of the more loyal ones gave cries of “Yes, Boss!” and soon the others followed suit.   
Plague Knight gave a deep sigh and descended from his makeshift podium as the minions filed out, returning to their stations. As he did so, a dark shape swept out from behind one of the pillars nearby. Plague Knight nearly thought it was the skeletal knight again, but recognized Mona’s figure and gait almost immediately. The two might share similar heights, but Mona was not at all what one would call skeletal. 

“So… I guess this is really happening…” she murmured.

Plague Knight’s heart sank, “I… Er, Mona…”

Mona placed her hands on her hips and frowned, “So, what’s step one?”

“…ah?”

“In the counter plan? You do have a counter plan, right? I assume that’s what you meant by ‘I shall take care of everything’?” 

“Heh, well, in theory,” replied Plague Knight, windmilling his hands, “I don’t know enough yet to formulate a proper one…”

“But that’s the direction you’re headed?”

“Of course! I have no interest in being the court alchemist to some self-important sorceress!”

Plague Knight saw a smirk dart across Mona’s lips.

“Heh. Good,” she snapped her fingers, and conjured another bottle of her special red tonic, “I’ve got a few ideas in mind, but I’ll wait until you’ve gleaned more information on this… Order. Just know that I’m ready for whatever… okay?”

She handed him the large bottle of warm liquid, “Anyway. Drink up, Plague Knight.”

Plague Knight accepted the potion shyly and sat down to drink it. He felt deeply comforted that Mona was so staunchly by his side in the matter. She didn’t even seem angry that he’d failed them all so utterly… Or maybe she was simply good at hiding it.   
Plague Knight slurped down the brew through his straw, and felt the familiar cuddly warm feeling settle over him. He found himself thinking that it would be twice as nice if Mona stooped down and held him as well, but he pushed the thought sharply out of his head as he nearly choked on the liquid. 

\- - -

Plague Knight’s next summons came a few weeks later. He was once again in his room when a vortex opened over his bed, just as before. As annoying as this trend was, it did give Plague Knight time to snatch up a bottle of his transmutation potion and grow to a respectable height. This time, however, it was not the spectral knight who came for him, but a pair of surly Wizzems, who were not as patient with him.

“C’mon out, wizard,” called one, “Wherever you are!”

Plague Knight hastily tugged on a longer pair of tights, “You people really pick the worst times to show up, heehee! I’m dressi–“

One of the Wizzems chose then to throw open the closet doors. Plague Knight flinched and shied behind his many hanging robes, trying to hide his bare upper half from the intruders.

“Do you mind?!” he squawked, “Heehee! This is no peep show!!”

The Wizzem tapped their foot on the ground, impatiently.

“Dress quickly, wizard,” they grumbled.

“The Enchantress has need of you,” called the other.

Plague Knight resisted a scathing response to their continued misnaming of him. He shuffled through his closet, still trying to hide his bony greenish torso, and pulled his larger robes over his head. Thank goodness he was wearing his mask. The idea of anyone seeing him without it, especially the people he currently hated most in the world, was too much to bear. 

When he was finally fully dressed, he stepped smartly out of the closet and slammed its doors with a bang.

“Hee! Very well. Escort me, lowly underlings…”

The Wizzems promptly flanked him, and performed a complex series of hand gestures, as was their particular brand of casting magic. A distortion appeared in the air, and the Wizzems took hold of Plague Knight’s arms and marched him through it. Plague Knight jerked away from them, clutching protectively at his robes.

“Don’t touch me, heehee! I’m starting think I’m going to have to alert the higher-ups to a case of workplace harassment!!” 

The Wizzems ignored him and lead him down a long black corridor. Purplish flames burst to life in the candelabras at their approach, casting dim light over their pathway as they trod it. A nifty little trick, Plague Knight thought to himself. Surely an act of magical intimidation. Or clever mechanics.

When the corridor came to an end, it opened out into an absolutely colossal chamber. High, stained-glass windows and huge torches decorated the towering walls, and even the tiniest sounds echoed loudly in the vast space.   
At the very back wall, beneath the most intricate windows, stood an angular throne hewn from obsidian and mounted upon a tall dais. Nobody occupied the macabre seat as of yet, but several figures were gathered around it. The lights were so dim that they were a little hard to make out, but Plague Knight wasn’t exactly interested in them. These were surely the other members of the Order. Had they joined of their own accord, or had they been beaten into submission as he had? Judging by the size of a couple of them, it seemed unlikely. But not impossible…

Plague Knight took his place amongst the figures, just as more footsteps echoed up the corridor. Another person came to stand beside him, and Plague Knight could just make out the glint of a long, sharp blade at their hip. He shuffled slightly away, though he didn’t much want to cozy up the brass-clad behemoth on his other side, either.   
A whoosh startled the small group, and heads turned to see a hovering figure appear from thin air. Plague Knight recognized the boney knight, and the others seemed to as well. They all fidgeted or made soft noises of dislike. Plague Knight supposed that answered his earlier question. 

The echoing silence of the chamber was starting to wear on his nerves. He was just about to let out one of his characteristic cackles to see if it would make any of the solemn attendees jump, when a burst of magenta light lit the chamber like a flash bang. There was a soft chorus of gasps as a bitter cold enveloped the room, emanating from the figure that emerged from the burst of illumination. 

For the first time, Plague Knight beheld the Enchantress. 

Her form was a little difficult to make out in the dark, since she was wrapped in a gleaming black robe, but she seemed to be a tall, slim woman. A complicated fan of pink spines decorated her collar, and trailing, flared sleeves hung from her lithe arms. Her hair -if she had any- was obscured by a clinging black cowl, and her face was flanked by a pair of large, striped, horn-like protrusions. A single, magnificent pink jewel adorned her forehead, matching the striking hue of her piercing eyes. And her face… somehow youthful and gaunt at the same time; it was beautiful, but ethereally so. The effect was magnified by the colour of her skin: a pale shade of emerald green. 

She gazed complacently down upon the motley assemblage, a smirk tugging at her lips. 

“My Knights…” she purred in a deep, melodic voice, “Here you all stand before Me… at last.”

She sauntered back and forth across her dais with inhuman grace, surveying the figures she now called her own. 

“With your assistance, I shall conquer this land… I shall bring about a new era of triumph and power the likes of which the world has never seen… Each of you holds a key talent that shall bear us to victory. You, My Knights… My Order of No Quarter. Kneel before Me, pledge your loyalty… and share in the fruits of My glorious vision.” 

With another blast of freezing air, Plague Knight felt gravity increase. He, along with the others, staggered to their knees as the Enchantress settled languidly onto her wicked throne. Plague Knight gripped his staff tightly, supporting himself as he did so. He was determined to have some part of him stand against her, whether it was flesh or wood.   
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the spectral knight descend from the air and touch down upon the black stones… yet he did not fall to one knee as the others had. Plague Knight clenched his jaw, seething. This was her chief enforcer, her right hand man, her favourite… A thousand methods of revenge vied for his attention as his grudge festered. 

The Enchantress beamed and gave up a wailing, otherworldly peal of laughter. She raised her fine green fingers into the air and a bright flash of light lit the throne room. The air was so cold now that Plague Knight could barely see his breath rising from the hole in the end of his mask as his lenses fogged up. He was sure that the infernal woman had performed some kind of spell… but to what end, he did not know.

“Go now, and feast,” she cried, triumphantly, “Make merry before your toil begins!”

The floor beneath the group suddenly came away from the rest of the room, and descended through the black Tower. Comparatively warm air whooshed over them as walls made way and rooms sped by. When the terrifying trip was over, the hovering stones deposited them in what appeared to be a large banquet hall, overlooked by grand windows and gaunt blue torches. Greenish rain pattered against the windows as the figures got their bearings. Some were looking a bit sick, while others were shrugging off the trip without trouble. Plague Knight himself felt a bit queasy, and staggered over to one of the high-backed chairs.   
The other people soon filled in around him, and the illumination in the chamber was bright enough for Plague Knight to actually get a good look at them. 

Plague Knight was seated in the third seat to the right of the long table. At the far right sat a strapping man in glittering gold armour and a fine ermine cape. Eyeing the man’s familiar crown, Plague Knight realized this must be the King Knight who conquered Pridemoor keep. He was already reaching towards a plate of chicken, eagerly, seemingly unfazed by their unusual arrival.  
Next to him, and immediately to Plague Knight’s right, was a huge, bulbous specimen in bright red armour. He was shaped something like an onion, and his hands were encased in huge, viciously clawed gauntlets. A spout of fire billowed from the back of his helmet, causing a dancing, glittering reflection in his armour.   
To Plague Knight’s left sat a gentleman in a dashing green jacket. His entire mode of dress was extremely fancy and conspicuously foreign. He had picked up one of the goblets of juice provided and was swirling it experimentally in his gloved hand. His helmet was surmounted by an odd contraption with four long blades. It looked like the type of propeller used in most airships. Plague Knight wondered if the fool actually used it to fly around.  
Beyond him was the spectral knight, sitting sullenly, wrapped in his crimson cloak. He was nearly obscuring the man beside him, who was so small he had to prop himself up on the edge of the table to reach anything. His face was obscured by a welding mask, and his clothing suggested that he was some kind of tinker.  
Beside him was an enormous figure in a bronze diving suit. One of his hands was encased in a large, heavy glove, while the other seemed to be adorned differently, though Plague Knight couldn’t quite make out how from this angle.  
The final member at the far left was the biggest of the lot. He was dressed in furs, complete with dirty, shaggy cape, and his solemn, white-bearded face was partially obscured by an iron helmet decorated with large, ivory-white horns.   
He was already well on his way through one of the chickens, and seemed to favour the tankards of beer over the goblets of juice.

The chamber was silent for a time, the only sound being the enthusiastic chewing from either end of the table. Then the large red fellow on Plague Knight’s right spoke. 

“Well now. Guess we’re all gonna be working under the same contract, huh?”

There were a few indistinct mutters around the table. The man turned his huge claws over to show the palms of his ‘hands’. 

“A company works best together if they know each other,” he continued, “I say we introduce ourselves. No sense being awkward and skirting around each other. It’ll damage productivity!”

There was a sense of hesitation in the group, but the man to the left of Plague Knight set down his goblet and spoke up.

“I agree!” he cried in a thick accent, “Not all of us wish to be here, perhaps…”

There was a ripple of fidgeting around the table, “But it does not mean we cannot make the best of the situation, no? Charmed to meet you, mes amis… I am Propeller Knight, master of the sky and captain of the Flying Machine!”

“That’s the spirit!” cried the man to Plague Knight’s right, “I’m Mole Knight. Professional excavator– best around! I’m conducting a dig down at the Lost City. We oughtta be down another fifty stories by next week, haha!”

“Um, I’m Tinker Knight,” called the tiniest figure after he was sure nobody else was going to interrupt him, “I build all manner of contraptions up at the Clockwork Tower– it’s just a hop skip and a jump from here. Pleased to meet you all! Hope we can work together peacefully, even if our ends aren’t, so much.”

After a silence, Mole Knight turned to King Knight and nudged him. 

“How ‘bout you, Mr. Fancy-Pants? What’s your deal?”

King Knight drew away, contemptuously, drawing his cape around himself.

“Do not sully my fineries with your dirty claws, you trifling trench-digger!” he cried. 

Mole Knight drew his gauntlets back with a snort. King Knight put down his goblet of juice and adjusted his crown haughtily. 

“I need hardly introduce myself to peasants like you,” he sniffed, “I am King Knight, most glamorous and golden ruler of The Valley!”

“You rule a single, paltry kingdom,” hissed the gaunt knight from across the table, “If you can call it that. Shut your gilded gob and go back to your dinner.”

“Silence, peon!!” screamed King Knight, banging his fists on the table, “I will not be spoken to like that!!”

Plague Knight slid down his seat, miserably. Why did he have to be surrounded by the loudest members of this cabal of clowns? He wished he’d picked a seat at the other end of the table next to the silent giants… though he didn’t want to be anywhere near his new arch-nemesis. 

“What did you say your name was again?” called Mole Knight, peering down the table at the red-cloaked knight, “You’re the Enchantress’s hired sword, right? Or should I say scythe?”

The other Knights -for this seemed to be the running theme- all turned to him, reproachfully. He gave a soft sigh.

“I am Spectre Knight. I serve the Enchantress in any capacity She requires.”

“Hoh hoh! Any capacity? I think not,” tittered Propeller Knight. 

Spectre Knight merely hissed in disdain and returned to his sullen silence. Tinker Knight glanced towards the large diver beside him.

“What’s your name, mister? I think I’ve seen your helmet somewhere before.” 

“Nhhr drrht rrn rr wrrntd prrstr,” came the muffled reply. 

“Sorry? Didn’t quite catch that,” said Tinker Knight.

The enormous Knight lifted his helmet slightly, and his deep, calm voice issued forth more clearly.

“No doubt on a wanted poster,” he uttered, “I am Treasure Knight. I rule the seas, and hunt for gold. I am to be the Order’s financier… I hope to make it a lucrative venture.” 

“Well that’s practical!” said Tinker Knight, cheerfully, “Glad to have you on board.”

Treasure Knight paused a moment to transfer a piece of chicken under his lifted helmet, before dropping it. Tinker Knight leaned even farther across the table, far enough that his knees skidded over the tablecloth. 

“How ‘bout you, big fella?” he called to the final man at the end of the table, “Don’t be shy!”

The enormous mountain of a man crunched a chicken bone between his teeth and swallowed it. He put down his tankard of beer and squinted over Treasure Knight at the diminutive Tinker Knight. The little engineer seemed to have realized he may have made a mistake, as his hands flew to the wrench tucked into his apron.

“Hmph. Polar Knight,” rumbled the giant, tersely.

“…Right! Nice to meet you, Polar Knight,” said Tinker Knight, sounding slightly relieved, and letting his hands fall to his side, “So, uh, is that everyone?” 

“Hold on, how about this creature?” called Propeller Knight, gesturing to the seat next to him, “Are you to be our physician, piaf?” 

Plague Knight sat up a little straighter in his chair, brushing his fingers over the contents of his robes.

“Heehee, no, not quite!” he called, slyly, “Do I really have to participate in this sappy little exercise? Why can’t we all agree to just tolerate each other and leave it at that, hee!”

“C’mon, birdman,” said Mole Knight, “We’ve all had our turn, now its yours. Fair’s fair.” 

“Nothing about any of this is fair,” Plague Knight replied, acidly, “I have no interest in making friends with you mouth-breathers, heehee! I’m here to be the Enchantress’s court alchemist, and that’s that!” 

“Alchemist? What’s an alchemist?” asked Tinker Knight, curiously.

“Hoho! L’alchimie!” cried Propeller Knight, “So you are the little scientist, non?”

“Hmm. I knrr yrr lrt. Rrn rnslltrn brrsnss, rrlkmrr. Chrrtrrs, thrr lrrt rrf yrr,” mumbled Treasure Knight, dismissively. He was once again incomprehensible with his helmet down, but whatever he said was no complement. 

Plague Knight sighed, sneering under his mask.

“I’ll give you a little demonstration, shall I?” 

He pulled a bomb from his robes and attached a lob handle to it before tossing it high into the air. The Order members watched it go in confusion. All except for Spectre Knight, who leapt on the table and vaulted after the bomb with his scythe unsheathed. With a single slash, he rent the bomb in two, preventing it from detonating. Plague Knight fumed.

“HEE! No fair!” he cried, leaping onto the table to confront the descending Spectre Knight, “You’ve ruined my demonstration!”

“You would do well to think before you act, alchemist,” he hissed, “If these Knights believed themselves under attack, they would surely tear you limb from limb.”

Plague Knight laughed, “Oh, please! I could take every single one of you, easy!”

There was a general collective snort of derision from around the table. Spectre Knight shook his head, chuckling dryly.

“Bold words for one who was already felled by my blade alone.”

The other Order members laughed, and there was a cry of “He’s got you there, beakface!”

Plague Knight remained defiant. 

“Heehee! You’re quite cocky for someone who won by sheer dumb luck,” he shot back, but shifted into a jaunty stance and held out his free hand, “But very well. I’ll play your silly game. I am Plague Knight. I run the Explodatorium in the second quarter of The Valley, and I’ve come to provide my alchemical expertise to this… Order of No Shorties. Minus you.”

He pointed at Tinker Knight, who folded his arms, “Anything else..? Oh, yes! I’m smarter than the lot of you combined, heehee!”

“I doubt that!” called Tinker Knight, planting one foot on the table with the intent on confronting his lippy -or perhaps beaky- insulter.

“Heehee! I’d be happy to prove it to you, toymaker,” Plague Knight called gleefully, already reaching for another bomb. 

A blast of freezing air suddenly swept through the dining hall, and Tinker Knight promptly sat back down. The Enchantress appeared in a burst of pink flames, hovering over them. 

“My My My…” she cooed, dangerously, eyeing Plague Knight and Spectre Knight standing on the table, “Is there… a problem amongst My Knights? Surely not… as that would greatly displease Me.”

Plague Knight was about to make some flippant comment, but Spectre Knight interrupted him. 

“The alchemist was just introducing himself, Enchantress. Forgive his melodrama; his attempt to ease his wounded pride has led him to act quite the fool.”

“Clearly,” chuckled the Enchantress, an ominous note underscoring her amusement, “Well, little alchemist? Do you resent your coveted position in My magnificent Order..?” 

Plague Knight stared up at her, fixedly. He was defiant, but he wasn’t stupid. 

“Hee! I certainly resent the company I’m forced to keep,” he replied, avoiding a direct answer, “You’ve placed me amongst a group of dumb muscle!” 

The Enchantress uttered another of her low, ululating peals of laughter.

“Your confidence in your intelligence is great, perhaps to the extent of folly. You will have the chance to prove it, soon enough. But at present, you will silence your saucy beak and return to your seat… unless you’d like to see exactly what I contribute to this organization other than leadership…”

She left the threat hanging icily in the air, and Plague Knight forced himself to climb back down into his chair without another word. 

 

\- - - 

 

Plague Knight’s chance to prove himself came sooner than he thought. He was summoned a third time to the Tower by another set of Wizzems. He was left for several hours to wait in the antechamber, and spent the time gazing down at the bustling crowd below. It was fairly amusing to see the various types of soldiers and workers all going about their businesses. A diverse cast of characters ranging from aquatic mages to simple shepherds. Plague Knight even spotted a few of his own minions.   
At long last, the Wizzems returned and lead him once again to the cavernous throne room, where the Enchantress was waiting for him. She was hovering above her throne, gazing at the intricate stained glass windows, or perhaps out of them. She remained there for some time, and Plague Knight fidgeted as he waited for her to acknowledge his presence. He knew it was all a big power move, but the freezing aura she gave off was giving him a chill and he just wanted to be out of her presence as soon as possible.

“Plague Knight,” said the Enchantress, softly, “Why is it that you are called that..?”

Plague Knight had decided to adopt an attitude of semi-sarcastic servitude in the Enchantress’s presence. Unlike Mona, he couldn’t just pretend to be polite and friendly to someone he hated, so he opted to go for a sort of blithe brown-nosing and hope the Enchantress would simply take his more snide moments as eccentricities. He was aware of how people saw him; he knew most thought him mad. 

“Hee! It is a monicker of my own choosing, Your Enchantresship,” he said, bowing.

“Has it no relation to your line of work?” she queried, still gazing out the window.

“Not… necessarily,” replied Plague Knight, “Heehee! I work mainly with ballistic armaments, Your Enchantresship.”

“But surely a man of your talents could live up to his name..?” 

The Enchantress began to descend slowly from her perch, turning in midair to face him. Plague Knight felt the cold air increase as she drew nearer, and began to see his breath again. 

“You are a physician of sorts, yes? You have experience with death and disease..?” she continued, as her robes silently touched the ground.

“…Yes, Your Enchantresship.”

“And an alchemist without peer, or so I’m told… Always looking… nay, hungering to Know…”

Plague Knight’s stomach churned. He didn’t like her saying that. She seemed to know how he felt, as her lips tugged into a haughty smirk.

“My loyal little alchemist,” she continued, “I want you to devise for Me a score of plagues and poisons to aid in My conquest of The Valley. The battle has already begun, but I foresee many attempts to recapture the land once I am victorious… A grave illness should keep the dissenters nice and docile… don’t you think?” 

Plague Knight bowed again, “Heehee! What a delightfully devious idea, Your Enchantressty! May I humbly ask by what vector You would wish these pestilences to pass?”

“One to suit any occasion,” she replied, unhelpfully, “For any situation that may arise, I want you to furnish me the corresponding toxin. It may prove to be quite the challenge, and I expect only the best… Can you rise to the occasion, My loyal alchemist..?” 

“Hee! A test of my skills! I shan’t disappoint, My…” Plague Knight windmilled his hand, “…Queen.”

The Enchantress smirked, dangerously.

“Ho ho. Such tender address from such a sweet tongue. Perhaps someday I shall cut it out.”

With that, she rose back into the air, “I shall give you a month’s time to make progress… do not disappoint Me.”

Plague Knight was once again flanked by Wizzems and returned unceremoniously to the Explodatorium.

 

Upon his return, Plague Knight hastened into the heart of his castle, his mind feverishly mulling over the issue at hand. He had a month, one single month, to set up a proper, quarantined lab, obtain samples of miasmic spores, grow them, contain them and invent a way to spread them without them growing out of control. Plague Knight assumed the Enchantress would not want The Valley wiped out by something the likes of the Black Death. After all, who wanted to rule a lonely kingdom..? Perhaps he would start with poisons instead. They were far more easy to control.

Just as he was making his way towards his labs, he heard an odd sound issuing from ahead. As he drew closer, he realized that it was wailing– dozens of voices, all raised in sobs and cries of anguish. Bursting into the chamber, he found a group of minions clustered together. Some were crumpled into heaps, weeping openly, while others had their arms around them. Some were pressed against walls, beating their fists against the stone. Plague Knight stared in shock.

“W–What on earth is going on, here?!” he cried, “What is this– Why aren’t you at your stations? Hee! Did you fools accidentally brew a batch of tear gas by accident?!”

“YOU MONSTER!” howled one of the minions, as he approached, “YOU TRAITOR!”

“What?! Hee! What are you on about?!”

“Does he claim not to know?!” cried another, “Has he not been informed of the actions of his beloved Enchantress?!”

Plague Knight’s jaw clenched, “I feel no affection for that damned woman. What has she done, now?”

“The demon..!”

“The vile witch!”

“The fiend struck our home– The Lich Yard has fallen at her hands!”

Plague Knight stared. The Lich Yard? It was miles and miles away from the Tower. Yet, with her abundance of magic and that mirror, Plague Knight supposed distance was no issue. Not to mention Propeller Knight’s fleet of airships… But why the Lich Yard..? 

“My wife… My wife remains there still– Could she be..?”

“My children! What’s become of my children?!”

“My father was ill– He couldn’t have run away!”

Now the reason for the anguish became clear; all the mourning minions were recruits from the Lich Yard. Their families and friends had been in the direct line of fire. Plague Knight’s first instinct was to scoff. What good were families? They bore you into the world, and… But then, Plague Knight had to remind himself that his own experience was not commonly shared. In fact, all these minions most likely had scores of loving kin that they may have just lost…  
Plague Knight seethed. Not only had the Enchantress forced him humiliatingly into her service, but she was already providing him with no end of troubles. Plague Knight did not want to deal with the anger and grief of these people; he was not socially nor emotionally equipped, and he needed their help in completing his task.   
He pressed his mind for a solution. 

“Minions!” he cried, “We are not yet able to stand against this foul tyrant– but I assure you I am working tirelessly on a way to escape her clutches! For the time being, I need all of you to pull together and aid me in deceiving her. We must have her believe we are loyal!”

“I’d rather die!” shouted one minion.

“Me too!” shouted another.

“I wouldn’t, but it’s the thought that counts!” shouted a third.

Plague Knight held back a snicker of annoyance, “At present there is no other course of action. You can go and try to run her through with a sword for all I care, but I will not have you endangering your coworkers!”

“But our families!” 

“Our friends!”

Plague Knight thought carefully about the situation. If the minions knew that the Lich Yard had fallen, surely there had been witnesses. Living escapees to tell the story. 

“Listen, minions,” he called, “Tell me the names of your kin. When I am able, I will discover whether they escaped by any means necessary. Hee– It is all I can do, at present!”

There was a general muttering of hesitation, before it changed to assent. 

“You’ll find them? My children?”

“My wife?”

“My father?”

“I make no promises,” grumbled Plague Knight, “But I will… try. Now. You’ve grieved long enough. Our own lives are at stake, if we don’t hop to it, heehee!”

What ‘it’ was, he was not looking forward to explaining. 

\- - -

“Well, good news. Pretty much everyone survived.”

Mona was sitting at her desk in Plague Knight’s private lab, looking over the list of names. It had been two weeks -halfway into Plague Knight’s deadline- and she had taken up the job of family-finder.

“Apparently the Yard’s hero the ‘Phantom Striker’ managed to hold off the attacking forces long enough for the villagers to escape the undead hoards. The place is a ghost town now, though. Nobody can get back in. Even the Striker’s been ousted. He’s disappeared, too.”

Plague Knight sighed and laid his head against his desk.

“Hee… Well, that’s good for us. The minions will stop blubbering on about dead family members, and they’ll be able to get back to work.” 

Mona shuffled her pages and banished them with a crisp snap.

“We’re really doing this, huh?”

“Yes…” Plague Knight sighed, quietly, “I’m starting off with a concoction of Aqua Tofani, as well as a batch of Calomel. The stuff is a purgative, so it can be marketed and disguised as medicine, despite its toxic effects.” 

Mona shuddered, “That’s disgusting.”

“I know,” grumbled Plague Knight, “But what choice do I have, heehee? She said she’d cut out my tongue.”

He paused, realizing how cowardly his words sounded, “I’d bear it, of course… but only if I had some way of getting back at her, heeheehee…”

“And we will,” said Mona, firmly, “Listen, Plague Knight. Things are going to get very delicate, from now on…”

“Hee! Don’t I know it…”

“And I was thinking… We’re going to need some place secure.”

“Hmm?”

Mona’s hands were splayed over her notebook, and she was frowning.

“The Enchantress and her goons can teleport in here at any time. Trying to do something under her nose would be incredibly risky. But if we had a secret base, someplace she didn’t know about…”

Plague Knight lifted his head from the table in interest.

“Go on..?”

“…As far as I know, none of her forces have seen me. None of them know who I am, nor my relation to you.”

Plague Knight thought back and realized she was right. Mona hadn’t arrived yet during Spectre Knight’s assault, Plague Knight had avoided her when recruiting minions to the Tower, and all of his summons were conducted in his room, which Mona had never entered.

“I can be your agent on the outside,” said Mona, “I can move around undetected, and run things underground… literally. We’ll just… we’ll have to be… very careful.”

Plague Knight nodded. His heart sank. He had a feeling that his meetings with her would become even scarcer than they already had been.

“I’ve got some ideas, but I’ll need supplies. Can I… Can I borrow some things from the Explodatorium..?”

“Of course! Anything you need, heehee!” cried Plague Knight, hiding his anxiety, “Just tell me…”

\- - -

By the time Plague Knight was done his parcel of poisons for the Enchantress, Mona had already begun plans for her secret base. Plague Knight returned from his audience, shivering, to find Mona waiting for him in one of the basement labs. 

“How did it go?” she asked, as he padded in, rubbing his arms to dispel the cold. 

“Heh, not too badly,” said Plague Knight, “She seemed pleased with the lethality of the Tofani, and she was quite amused by the trick with the Calomel. She wants an actual plague next, though, so I’m going to be very, very busy…”

Mona nodded, looking subtly relieved. Plague Knight noted a faint burst of heat issue from her, and he reflexively moved closer to warm himself in it, before embarrassment overcame him and he stumbled to a halt. Mona didn’t seem to notice.

“Alright. I’ve got everything planned out, so hopefully we can get this done quick between jobs,” she said, unfolding a large sheet of paper and showing it to Plague Knight, “This is a banishment guide. If we chalk the same markings around the same objects, I can send them perfectly from one place to another without accidentally causing one thing to bump into or crush another. I thought it would be useful, since we’re going to be moving some… pretty big stuff.”

Plague Knight nodded, peering curiously at the paper. This was some kind of magical process, and it intrigued him greatly, even if he himself could not replicate it.

“Can you get some of the minions to help mark everything up?”

“Hee, of course!”

 

Half an hour later, the basement lab was buzzing with activity. Minions strode back and forth carrying books, boxes and bottles. Crates were being moved into place via pulleys, and a large glass tank was being filled with water.   
Plague Knight was hopping about, directing minions and fending off wandering undead with his bombs. He glanced over from his position to see Mona conversing with what seemed to be a large, empty suit of armour he’d never seen before. When she’d finished speaking, she helped the armour onto a pulley, and it was lifted away along with one of the crates. Then she turned and made her way over to the glass tank, which was closer to Plague Knight. He was just about to go and ask her about the armour, when a skeleton leapt down and engaged him in battle.

“Hee! Begone, you bag of bones!” he cried, tossing a Black Powder bomb at the creature and blowing it to smithereens.

A minion pulling a wagon bearing a cauldron ducked out of the way of the shrapnel, while another with a sack of powders wasn’t so agile. 

“Hey, Plague Knight, can you give me a hand?”

Plague Knight waved away the cloud of smoke to see Mona grappling with a chain which was coming out of a pipe connected to the large glass tank. 

“I need to get this chain out of here, but it’s stuck on something and it won’t… come… out..!” she said, grunting with exertion as she tried to yank it free.

“Hee, I’ll be right there,” he called, bomb-bursting to her side.

Mona reached up to a higher length of the chain and tugged it down as far as she could. Plague Knight reached up and grabbed the bottom of it, then began pulling as hard as he was able. The pair struggled for some time, but the stubborn chain would not budge.   
All of the sudden, Mona let out a sharp gasp. She’d tried to get a better grip on the chain, and the metal had slipped through her fingers. The chain retreated, sharply, and Plague Knight, who was still holding on, was dragged along with it. He swung through the air, heading straight at Mona, and shut his eyes reflexively, turning his beak away just in time to avoid stabbing her in the face.  
He felt the side of his mask skim against something solid, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself hanging in the air, barely an inch away from his partner, literally cheek to cheek.

There was a small, shocked silence, before Plague Knight let go of the chain and and stumbled back, heart pounding. He’d been so close to Mona that he could smell her, count the eyelashes on her lids, feel the heat from her face against his mask. It was a little more than his poor heart could take.  
Meanwhile, Mona had sprung away from him as well. He could see her facing away, hunched over slightly. His stomach flip-flopped, queasily. The invasion of her personal space had probably made her extremely uncomfortable. Had he lingered too long? Had he made some kind of face? Well, that wouldn’t matter– she couldn’t have seen it, either way. But surely he’d made the creepy little accident even creepier, somehow. Because, now that the moment was over and he could process his feelings, he realized that he’d liked being that close. And desired to be so again. But that wasn’t… he shouldn’t…

Plague Knight wrung his hands nervously. All that weirdness aside, he probably smelled horrible from exertion, and his arms had been raised above his head in clinging to the chain. 

“I-I’m sorry–“ Plague Knight looked up to see Mona moving hesitantly towards him, her arms clasped behind her back and a worried look on her face, “I– My hands slipped– I didn’t mean to…”

“H-heh– No, it’s… I-I-I’m sorry for nearly p-poking your eye out, h-heeheehee!”

Mona stared for a few moments, an expression of incomprehension on her face, before it faded into one of her blank looks of disinterest. She straightened up and turned away again.

“…Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s, um. Just keep going…”

“Ms. Mona? Everything’s in place,” called a minion, and Mona hurriedly hastened to their side to begin the great banishing.

Plague Knight scuttled away to check the veracity of the minion’s claim, his face burning and his stomach churning.


	14. Of Devious Machinations

The Lich Yard was not the last settlement to fall to the Order of No Quarter. As the months passed, hamlets, villages and towns slowly dropped off the map, conquered by the Order member closest. Plague Knight himself cut a swath of destruction through the countryside surrounding the Explodatorium. The hamlets and villages surrounding him were small and ill-prepared for war. He descended upon them with his minions, surrounded by clouds of noxious fumes and poisonous smoke. Screams mingled with the sounds of explosions, and for once it didn’t quite bring Plague Knight the pleasure he was used to.  
Guards, knights and mercenaries dropped like flies to his distilled diseases and barrages of bombs. Soon enough, he had something of a kingdom under his belt. Not that it was his. It belonged to their glorious leader, the Enchantress. He’d simply won it for her. 

Plague Knight had assumed that the Armour Outpost would be under his jurisdiction as well, seeing as it was nearest to the Explodatorium of all the second quarter Knights’ realms, as well as the fact that he’d had a previous trade connection there. However, it seemed the Enchantress wanted to take care of it personally.  
He witnessed the attack himself, standing atop his black battlements. The Aerial Anvil took to the skies as flashes of magenta light signalled the arrival of the malicious magic-user. Plague Knight wondered idly why she wanted to take the fort herself, and wondered a little less idly why she could not. For lo, when he curiously went to inspect the damage, he found the town broken and burned, but nonetheless populated by knights and smiths.

The Outpost remained the last unconquered settlement in The Valley, apart from The Village all the way at the far west end. This was lucky, of course, as that was where Mona was building her secret empire.   
Plague Knight did not receive much word on her movements, as sending letters was now so risky. Instead, he trusted that she was doing well, and focused on updating his own labs in the meantime.   
The security on the Explodatorium was upped considerably. Plague Knight filled the halls with Slimulacrum guards and patrolling Kettelegs, whilst the rat chamber was finally emptied, allowing the ratsploders to run free. Fairies were left unscathed in the hallways to ward off further intrusion, and several of the burner gauntlets were updated with an oscillating pattern of blasts to discourage any would-be heroes even more.

The minions were still very uneasy about the proceedings, and Plague Knight found himself having to crack down on them harder than ever. No matter how hard they cringed or muttered or cried, Plague Knight spurred them onwards, refusing to let them fall behind for any reason. Mistakes meant time in the dungeons. Big mistakes meant being cued up for experimentation in the basement labs. The minions kept their heads down and did their best to feign competence, fear pushing them forwards. Plague Knight was terrifying when he was angry, and he would accept nothing less than the best… Even more so, once the plague labs were built.   
The cultivation of disease was an incredibly delicate task. One little mistake, one accidental oversight in decontamination, and an infection could spread to his entire workforce. Plague Knight mainly dealt with the stuff himself, working under stringent guidelines and safety measures.   
Plague Knight often found himself ruefully reminiscing about his earliest days of banditry as he worked. It seemed like an age ago; before he’d taken up the title of capital K Knight, even before he’d reached adulthood. His clever little hands surreptitiously slipping drops of treated liquid into burly villagers’ meals. His shrieky cackles as those who’d wronged him suddenly came down with severe fits of botulism. 

‘But the meat was cooked,’ they cried, in anguish ‘The greens were fresh!’

Food poisoning had been his first defence, his earliest refuge from the cruelty of those bigger and stronger than he. But it wasn’t enough. He soon graduated to little firecrackers, which grew into bigger bombs, which carried him high over their heads, cackling madly with newfound bravado. Eventually they’d had enough. He was run out of town, chased off by a mob of furious villagers with their torches and pitchforks… But he’d run facing forward, never looking back. He’d run free, not as ‘you little bastard’, but as Plague Knight, alchemist extraordinaire. And he hadn’t known it then, but the name would soon ring seething in the ears of hundreds of knights across the land.

And now… now he was sealed away in a stony prison, building chemical weapons for a tyrant. Because, even with all his cleverness and cunning, he simply wasn’t strong enough. His intellect was boundless, but he would always be trapped by his own flimsy flesh and bones. He’d failed them all; all of his minions, his profession, even his dear partner… He’d fallen to the blade of a superior Knight, and he’d dragged all of them into a life of servitude under the Enchantress’s cold green thumb.   
Now that Plague Knight was a member of the Order of No Quarter, all he touched became hateful to the people of The Valley. Alchemy, which was only a nascent practice to the land, had quickly come to be regarded as a dark art due to its association with him. Even if his minions left his service, they wouldn’t be able to use any of their new skills to make a living for themselves, for fear of being arrested or outright stoned in the streets.  
Plague Knight chuckled bitterly as he separated volatile chemicals into neighbouring chambers inside specialized explosive, to be mixed when the charge was detonated. He had always wanted to be respected as a great alchemist; revered, perhaps feared, and even… well, not loved. He doubted anyone would ever look upon him and love him.   
And now, it seemed, he’d gotten his wish. The tiny little beak-masked scientist was dreaded as a chaotic bringer of pestilence and death. But as much as he appreciated the advancements he was making in that particular field, it wasn’t worth the loss of a greater boon of knowledge, all dashed by his new reputation as a vile reaper.

The familiar feeling of self-loathing began to wash over him as he finished one set of bombs and crept to the next. His weakness was never only a detriment to himself. Like a plague, its malevolence spread to all those around him, ruining them as only a disease could. He’d been a fool to think he could ever be cured. This was the only fate left to him and all those who dared associate with him; to create a pandemic of suffering the likes of which had never been known. To be dragged kicking and screaming into the shadows, never to see the sun again. 

As months passed, misery consumed him, permeating his flesh like a viral infection. Until one inexplicable day. Plague Knight found himself slumped at his worktable, building bomb upon chemical bomb. As he finished yet another unit and pushed it to the side, his hands fell momentarily to his side, and brushed something solid there. He looked down to see his staff tucked into his belt, its shining green eye staring up at him blankly. He gingerly placed the palm of his hand over its head, and felt the current of warmth just beneath the wood. A sudden spark lit within him at the sight of the gift. This strange, brilliant little thing that shouldn’t exist. Magic and alchemy, quietly working in tandem, carrying on and enduring together despite their conflicting natures. He curled his fingers tightly around the object and felt the spark within him grow into a roaring inferno. The cold chasm of hopelessness that had been consuming him was swallowed by the raging flames, and he nearly dashed his workspace to the ground. 

He hadn’t allowed someone to hurt him so badly in so long, and the realization hit him like a tonne of bricks. What on earth was he thinking? He’d sworn to himself he’d never let anything get under his skin so deeply again. If he let himself be bothered like that, he would never progress, never achieve his goals. He had never been strong, no, but damned if he was going to let his weakness overcome his will. He’d come so far, he’d learned so much, he’d achieved so many things, and now he was going to let some witch stop him in his tracks?   
The warm feeling inside him increased, and something that had been missing was beginning to grow back, slowly, but surely.

Plague Knight had pledged himself to alchemy when he was a mere child, and its guiding light had saved him time and time again. He could not fail his beloved practice by falling into despair at the hands of a mere magic user. And– And he couldn’t fail his dear partner, either. He owed nearly as much to her as he did to his art. Not to mention his dear little staff.  
Plague Knight had been so focused on his duties in the Order that his escape plans had fallen to the wayside… He seethed. He’d nearly let The Enchantress tame him. Nearly… But he Knew better now. He would not make that mistake again.

Plague Knight quickly summoned his cleverest minions to his side and gave them a quick lesson on building the chemical bombs he’d been slaving over. Then he practically flew to the library and buried himself in the tomes inside.   
What he needed was a weapon. Cleverness alone was not enough to destroy someone of the Enchantress’s power, but he could use it to find the chink in her armour. And there was always a chink. With the right armament, he could strike true.   
Plague Knight continued his feverish search through the books through the evening and into the night. He bookmarked any promising candidates and stacked them in a pile next to him, planning to narrow them down -or simply make every single one- when he was finished.   
Eventually, he came to the most recent of his literary acquisitions. It was a very old book. Its cover was hanging off of it, and its pages were stained and torn. The title was so worn that it was illegible, but Plague Knight knew it to be an alchemical text. He’d manage to acquire it, along with several others, by bribing some of Propeller Knight’s more unscrupulous crew members to make deliveries for him from faraway lands.   
Plague Knight did his best to decipher the muddled texts within the book, squinting heavily in the lantern light. The book told of many ancient alchemical practices. Several of them Plague Knight recognized, and knew by heart in their current, progressed forms. It seemed the book would be useless, at first, until he stumbled across a strange slew of blank pages at the very back. A book so ancient would never leave frivolous space like this, therefor Plague Knight was almost certain there was something hidden there.   
He rummaged in his robes for a vial of chemicals and a small paint brush. When he wrote his few, sparing letters to Mona these days, he wrote them in a type of ink that could only be revealed by the application of a secondary component. It was a trick alchemists had been using for centuries, and if it was the case here…  
Ah, yes. With a thin coat of solution, faint words began to fade into view on the paper. Plague Knight tittered triumphantly, then squinted closely as he began to read the poetic inscription that unveiled itself. 

“Of all elixirs new and old  
exists but one of might untold  
Contained within its depths of pearl  
the competence to rule the world   
No man, no beast, no earthly ire  
may keep you from all you desire”

Plague Knight stared. He had to take much of this with a grain of salt. These old texts were often inaccurate, and almost always incredibly out of date. Unlike magic, which was an ancient practice, alchemy was fairly young, and it evolved differently. Alchemical recipes and processes went through considerable iteration as they were better understood. As promising as this ‘elixir’ sounded, it could simply be some crackpot’s pipe dream, or an ancient and overblown remedy for haemorrhoids.   
Plague Knight continued reading, nonetheless, his interest piqued. 

“So listen close, take careful heed,   
for here is written what you need  
to brew the Serum Supernus  
you must build your concoction thus…”

The Serum Supernus. The elixir had a name. Just mouthing the words gave him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. Plague Knight wondered if this was how Mona felt when she sensed others’ magic.

“Find the bird of many hues   
and take from it its tears to use  
Before the Forest God do raise  
a cup for His phlegmatic praise   
And finally, obtain through strife  
the single multitude’s own life”

Plague Knight had never heard of any of these ingredients, even as ancient euphemisms for much less esoteric substances. There was more to the recipe, however. 

“These daunting tasks may trouble some  
yet harder still is yet to come  
Nine Essences you must distill   
with care and patience, wit and skill”

Plague Knight frowned. Something didn’t seem quite right about this passage. He’d used essence before, in making transmutation potions. It was easy to obtain; the essence of a person could be found in their blood, spit, skin or hair. Any part of them, really, though blood was the most efficacious. Yet, there was something about the capitalization of the word that made Plague Knight think the book was speaking of a different kind of essence. One that was, perhaps, much older than that of today’s scientific knowledge. 

“Acquire first some Confidence   
and temper it with Bitterness  
you’ll also need some Bravery  
and Avarice as well, you see  
Ambition must be added next   
and followed up with Cleverness   
do not forget to add stout Strength,  
and some Charisma too, at length”

Yes, it seemed that this capital E Essence was something much less concrete than a bit of blood. Plague Knight found himself wondering how it might be obtained, before reminding himself this could all be bunk and continuing to read.

“Bring sulphur, salt, and mercury  
in such sufficient quantity   
to keep the brew becalmed and still  
Prepare your wits and steel your will  
for now at the eleventh hour  
you must instil great Eldritch Power”

Eldritch Power? Plague Knight wondered if this was one of the Essences, or something else entirely. Usually, something Eldritch referred to a magical substance. Could this be an early attempt at the marriage of magic and alchemy?   
The final verse, however, struck Plague Knight to his very core. 

“and once the Serum’s stabilized   
let all your dreams be realized  
each want and wish and base desire  
is yours to easily acquire  
An alchemist of mental might   
shall have it all, as is his right”

A lofty promise indeed. Could this Serum Supernus truly give the drinker the power to obtain anything they wanted? To practically shape the world like a ball of clay between their fingers? It seemed ridiculous, and yet, so did the Philosopher’s Stone, a much more passive, but equally mysterious alchemical construct, and Plague Knight knew that one to be a reality.   
Plague Knight hesitated, then began to copy down the recipe into his notebook before the words disappeared again. There was nothing scientific about it, which meant that the first step to creating the esoteric elixir would be translating this poem into something quantifiable. As outlandish as it seemed, the promise of ‘might untold’ had captured Plague Knight’s attention. If this Serum Supernus was real, and he could make it, it might be the very brew he’d been searching for all these years. With that sort of strength, all his problems would be over… he could defeat every enemy, plumb every depth, command the respect of all he met, and… and the thought struck him that perhaps, he could even secure Mona’s affections.   
Just yesterday he would have believed the feat impossible, but now… if the Serum worked as advertised, he could become someone who might catch her attention. 

Spurred even harder by such a possibility, Plague Knight finished copying down the recipe and stuffed it into his cloak. He left the stack of books where they were and carefully put the crumbling old tome back in its place. Then he hurried to his room.  
The place had changed over the course of his time spent within the Order. Barrels of alchemical powders were now stacked against the walls, and piles of medical textbooks were organized next to Bertram’s cage. Further staffs -the final gifts Mona could safely transport to him- were mounted on the wall in case his own ever broke. It seemed it never would, however, as despite the nicks and dents it received during his raids, it was never once torn asunder.   
There was also more of an element of decor to the place, now. The villagers from the settlements he’d conquered, eager to appease their new, pestilential lord, had taken to presenting him with gifts in hopes he would leave their homes in peace. An expertly carved, raven-shaped coat of arms hung above his bed, staring blankly across the room with beady, green eyes. Above that was a tasteful portrait of Plague Knight himself, painted by a village’s greatest artist. Tucked into his closet next to his other masks was one made for him by a hamlet’s blacksmith. Its beak was sharper, and its colour golden. It stood out ornately amongst its fellows like a sore thumb.   
His chambers really did look like something of an evil lair, now. Despite the circumstances, Plague Knight had to admit he enjoyed aesthetic.   
He approached Bertram’s cage and fed him some apple, before turning the crank that lifted his bed to the wall. As the resting place retracted, the underside folded out into a small writing desk. Plague Knight sat down at it and began scribbling feverishly in the very ink he’d just revealed in the old tome.   
As dangerous as correspondence was, he needed to alert Mona to his plans. He’d made up his mind; he was going to create the Serum Supernus, and if there was anybody on this earth who could help him determine if it was feasible or not, it was Mona.   
Once the letter was finished, Plague Knight sealed it in an unmarked envelope and took it to the Mail Minion. The excitable courier was eager to deliver the letter, despite the danger. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, master! I’ll deliver this letter, or die trying!”

“Heh, well, try not to. I don’t want to hire a new mailman.”

As the Mail Minion scurried off, Plague Knight resigned himself to a long wait. It was probably best to go check on his bomb team, now; he’d left them alone since the previous evening and there was no guarantee they hadn’t all gassed themselves to death by accident…

 

\- - -

 

The weeks wore on, and Plague Knight continued developing his plagues and poisons for the Enchantress. She didn’t summon him directly much, anymore, which Plague Knight assumed meant she was satisfied with his work. She’d certainly not cut out his tongue, yet, and that was something to be grateful for.   
When the Mail Minion finally returned with Mona’s reply, he seemed very curious indeed.

“Master? What was in that letter you gave Ms. Mona? She seemed all aflutter after she’d finished reading it. I’ve never seen her so excited! She instructed me to wait by her side until she’d completed some research, and only then could I deliver you her response!”

Plague Knight was rather curious himself about what she’d written back to him. Opening the folded paper from the Mail Minion, he beheld only two words written in large, slightly smudged black letters on the page.

“Come. Now.”

Well, that was succinct. Plague Knight tucked the short letter away and quickly began making preparations for a trip to The Village. He entrusted several of his more competent minions with an excuse for his absence should anyone call while he was out, then brewed up a transmutation potion to disguise himself. He borrowed the face of one of his minions, and soon he had taken on the appearance of a skinny young man with fair hair and watery blue eyes.

Once all was in place, Plague Knight left the Explodatorium for the first time since he’d ravaged the surrounding countryside, and made his way to the Armour Outpost to use the catapult.  
The Outpost was in good working order, as usual, despite the harrowing circumstances. The Aerial Anvil hovered above it, housing all its smiths and tinkerers, and the villagers went about their daily business with a grim dignity. The knights were all on high alert, but Plague Knight was clever enough to bypass their security checks and secure himself passage to The Village.

It seemed like an age since he’d last been there, despite the fact that the surroundings hadn’t changed much. Despite being flanked on both sides by Order strongholds, The Village remained as intact as the Armour Outpost. Plague Knight wondered fleetingly why the Enchantress hadn’t asked him to smoke out the population, but he quickly realized he simply didn’t care. Making his way hastily to the tavern, he entered and made a beeline for the ladder down to the lower floors. As he passed, he noticed the Magicist standing at her stall, mixing potions. An idea struck him, but he tucked it away for later, intent on reuniting with his dear partner.  
Once inside the juice bar, Plague Knight headed for the section of wall he knew Mona’s room resided behind. The bar was rather busy today; Plague Knight spotted several interesting characters attending. An old witch with a branch growing out of the top of her head, a young, haughty looking woman in a green dress, and the poor deposed King himself.   
Lisa the bar wench was wiping the counter as he passed, and she waved at him as he went by. 

“Good day, sir! What can I getcha?”

“Oh, um, nothing. I’m just here to…” Plague Knight paused a moment, wondering how he’d get through the disguised door without blowing it open.

“Oh, here to play Spin Ye Bottle? Here, just give it a good kick, dear. You’ve got the right bit of wall.”

Plague Knight had no idea what she was talking about, but dutifully gave the wall a swift kick. The first kick only served to dent the entryway, so Plague Knight rammed it with his shoulder instead. This managed to break down the barrier, and Plague Knight stumbled into the room beyond. It was much the same as before, with its ruined walls and empty space. The floors, however, were now refurbished and covered in a plethora of stains and scratches. 

“Sigh… How do you people keep finding me..? I should really put up a sign…” came a sulky voice from the other end of the room. 

Mona was sitting at her writing desk, scribbling away as usual. Her voice was a bored monotone, and she barely even looked up as Plague Knight entered.

“I suppose, if you’re going to loiter around, we could at least pass the time with a game. Just one-hundred gold…”

Plague Knight hastened over to her.

“I don’t have any gold on me; how about one of these?”

“Look, this isn’t a cheap game. I’ve got to conjure a lot of gla…” Mona trailed off as she looked up to see Plague Knight place a bright green coin down on her desk.

Her eyes lit up and she waved her left hand at the far entrance, sealing it back up.

“You got my message!”

“Heh, I certainly did.”

“And you came… Who’s face is that, anyway?”

“Minion thirty-eight’s.”

“He looks like a worrier.”

“He is. Anyway, what is it that you needed me for so urgently? Did you like the idea?”

“Like it? LIKE it?” Mona conjured away the floorboards and fairly yanked Plague Knight down the rope ladder after her, “Do you have any idea what you dug up?”

“Uhh… No?”

“The Serum Supernus,” said Mona, as she began lighting candles in the chamber below, “is one of the Great Works of alchemy. It’s less well known than the Philosopher’s Stone, but that’s because it’s even harder to make. It’s practically a legend; nobody’s ever been proven to have completed it before.”

“How do you know all this?” Plague Knight queried, unable to hold back a tone of amusement. Mona was practically glowing around the edges with excitement. 

“Ballard once mentioned it at the Academy,” she said, “As an example of the frivolous sort of alchemy only useless dreamers came up with. And since we both know what he turned out to be, I knew it was worth looking into. I’ve spent the last few weeks looking for anything even remotely related to the Serum. It mostly shows up in old tales as the suspected power behind various dictators. But there are some pretty big names in the alchemical world who think it might be possible. According to Flamel, the ‘Ultimate Potion’ can be concocted, but the difficulty lies in the distillation and storing of the nine Essences described in the recipe. Essences are so volatile that keeping one, let alone nine, is nearly impossible. But that was then. This is now. We’ve come so far; I’m sure we can find a way to do it!”

Mona turned to Plague Knight, looking flushed and excited. Plague Knight felt a little jolt of electricity run down his spine and hoped the dimness would hide his quickly darkening cheeks. 

“W-wow, you’ve really done your research. What’s an Essence, anyway?”

“It’s the purest summation of a person as a whole. It’s not their soul, exactly, but the very core of who they are as a living being, in energy form. Essences are extremely complex, just as personalities are, but usually there’s one defining trait that makes up the bulk of their composition. Hence the Essences of X mentioned in the recipe.” 

“And how does one obtain an Essence?” 

Mona frowned, “That I haven’t quite figured out, yet. Essences are mentioned a lot more in magical texts than alchemical ones, it seems. I’m going to have to do a lot more research. And we’re also going to need to figure out what those other ingredients are, if we want to proceed. As well as a way to actually brew something as volatile as this is…”

“Do you think it’s possible?”

“For us? I’d say we have a good chance,” said Mona, smirking confidently, “And think of what it’ll mean if we actually succeed? You’ll become powerful enough to squash the Enchantress like a bug, and I’ll become famous for being the first person to have successfully brewed THE Serum Supernus. We’ll be legends!”

If Plague Knight had felt like backing out of the idea, he certainly couldn’t do it now. Mona was so enthused that she was radiating heat like a bonfire. 

“Legends are only legends for a reason,” quipped Plague Knight, “The brew interests me as well, but we have to be reasonably sure we can craft it before we begin. Doing so right under the Enchantress’s nose will be delicate indeed…”

“I think your disguise is wearing off on you,” said Mona, frowning, “You sounded a lot more sure in your letter.” 

“I feel a little more down to earth,” Plague Knight admitted.

“Well get your head back in the clouds,” snapped Mona, “We have an advantage that nobody else has.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

Mona snapped her fingers, and conjured one of her bottles of distilled magic.

“I have an idea of how we can stabilize an Essence.” 

 

\- - -

 

As time passed, Plague Knight’s Orderly duties waned. Now that The Valley was firmly grasped in the Enchantress’s iron fist, she didn’t have much need of his alchemical expertise. He was always obliged to attend Order meetings and banquets, of course, and every once in a while he was instructed to solve a scientific conundrum or two. But otherwise, Plague Knight was soon free to do as he pleased, so long as he kept his portion of the second quarter in check.  
This was quite easy; his reputation as the eeriest member of the Order of No Quarter had already spread far and wide, not to mention the terror his arsenal of diseases instilled.   
Plague Knight was extremely pleased with this development, as it meant he could make covert trips to The Village at his leisure to check on Mona and her secret base.

Every time he visited, the underground lair grew more and more complex. Mona was working ‘round the clock, building some kind of enormous machine. When Plague Knight stopped by for the third time, the great contraption appeared to be halfway finished. It consisted of the huge glass tank from the Explodatorium, a tall metal silo with a very large alembic perched on top, a half-finished contraption comprised of spheres and tubes, and two large cauldron-like constructs; one of class, the other of metal. It was all being hooked up together with huge green pipes, which Mona was currently working on. The whole thing surrounded her tiny station, making it far less lonely than before. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Mona,” said Plague Knight, staring up at the majestic collection of contraptions. 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Mona called back to him from her perch in mid-air. 

Mona had set up a pulley system with a sling attached, which she could sit on to perform maintenance on higher parts of her machine. The way she’d explained it, it was going to be a larger, more in-depth version of the tank she’d used to store her magic in. By improving on the process she used to distill and concentrate her raw magical power, Mona had hypothesized that she could do the same to Essences. They had yet to test her theory, but Mona was quite confident that it would work. 

“You know, I could send some minions down here to help you out,” he called, as he watched Mona mop her brow and exhale wearily.

“Are you sure you can spare them?”

“Sure! Since The Valley fell to the Order, we haven’t had all that much work. I can send in a rotating staff to help you with anything you need more than two hands for…”

Mona yanked on a rope, which caused the pulley to descend. When she was at ground level, she hopped off and approached Plague Knight, not-smiling fiercely. When Mona worked on her machine, she did away with her skirts and cape so as not to get them caught up in any machinery and injure herself. This left her lower half in nothing but her plain black stockings and boots, which had recently posed a bit of a problem for Plague Knight. His eyes had taken up the bad habit of drifting down to the handsome curve of her legs when she left them uncovered, and the resulting gut full of butterflies made things very difficult for Plague Knight, especially in conjunction with his transmutated disguise. It was easy now for Mona to note the red flush creeping up his neck and face when he quickly and forcefully realigned his gaze.   
Plague Knight really loathed his feelings for her sometimes; he’d never been obsessed with anatomy before he’d fallen in love with her, except where biological experiments were concerned. 

As if reading his mind, Mona offered a solution to at least part of his problem out of the blue.

“That’ll be a huge help. Let me pay you back up front… Transmutating every time you come down to see me must be a pain, right?”

Plague Knight shrugged, “It’s not that bad.”

“But it’s a waste of valuable resources. Besides, I miss y…” Mona pursed her lips and tried again, “I… Found a better way. Come with me.”

She beckoned him into the room next door, which was home to several new stations. Plague Knight spotted Percy sitting at one of them, poring over a stack of papers. Plague Knight hoped his disguise would keep the annoying Horse from noticing him. Percy had a little trouble keeping his mouth shut when it came to certain matters, so he’d had to relocate to the lair once he blabbed to the Villagers above that he was in league with the Enchantress’s alchemist himself.  
But Mona passed right by Percy’s workplace, instead directing Plague Knight to a small figure in a long white coat.

“Hey, Hedge. Today’s your lucky day. You finally get to pitch your idea to the boss,” she called.

The figured turned around, adjusting his glasses. He stared at Plague Knight, uncertainly.

“I-Is that him..?”

“Yep. He’s just in disguise,” said Mona, “I mean, who else would it be? We don’t let topsiders down here.”

The young man appeared to be a Hedgehog. His prickles were poking through the white lab coat he wore, and he had a slightly gormless, naive look to him. This only intensified as his face lit up with a huge smile.

“Wow! I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you, sir! Just give me a chance, and I’ll be your star pupil!”

Plague Knight raised an eyebrow.

“Heh… Right…”

“He’s been a big fan of yours since you came to The Valley. He only recently had the courage to join up, but by then you’d been carted off to the Tower…” Mona shrugged, “He’s been working with me ever since. He set a little something up for you; he’s hoping you’ll be impressed…”

Plague Knight noted from her tone that she seemed to want him to be nice to the little Hedgehog. Plague Knight complied and hitched a smile onto his face.

“Heh, well! Why don’t you show me this… little something?”

The Hedge Pupil beamed even wider and scuttled off. Plague Knight gave Mona one last fleeting glance before hastening after him. The spiny young man beckoned Plague Knight past Mona’s contraptions and to a long tunnel which eventually opened out just outside The Village. They travelled along together, passing the houses and the shops and the tavern until they came out on the other side of The Village. There, just before the mouth of the Plains of Passage, stood a small, cozy-looking house.

“Here we are, sir!” cried the Hedge Pupil, scurrying to the door and unlocking it with a key hung around his neck, “Come inside!”

“…What is this place?” asked Plague Knight, warily.

“It’s my house! But more importantly… it’s your new Secret Entrance!”

Inside, the Hedgehog lead Plague Knight to a large trunk in one corner of the living quarters.

“Observe,” he said, opening the trunk.

Inside was a stack of clothing and various knickknacks.

“Fascinating,” said Plague Knight, flatly. 

“You haven’t even seen the good part!” cried the Hedgehog, obliviously.

He closed the container again, then reached into his lab coat and withdrew a small vial. He deposited a drop of its contents into the keyhole of the trunk, which produced a loud hiss and a small exhalation of gas. When he pried it open again, the entire chest swung back, revealing a hole. The sound of rushing water issued from below. 

“An alchemical lock! See? Made it myself! And down there, it leads to the sewers!”

Plague Knight wrinkled his nose, “I can tell.”

“Just hop down there, if you will, sir…”

Plague Knight supposed he didn’t have another choice, and clambered awkwardly into the trunk. The drop was quick, and he soon found himself being borne along on a current of water. He heard the Hedge Pupil splash down behind him, and soon the pair of them were moving along the sewer system. At the far end, the water flow cut off, and beyond that was scummy wood paneling and bricks. Continuing along this strange path lead to yet another hole, which opened out into…

“Mona’s side room..?” hissed Plague Knight, peering down into the empty chamber.

“Yes! Now you won’t have to pass through The Village! You can just come down here, and Ms. Mona will let you into the lab!”

Plague Knight had to admit, it was a useful shortcut. He gave the Hedge Pupil a satisfied smile.

“Good work, my… star pupil, heheh.”

The Hedgehog fairly glowed with pride. Plague Knight hopped down through the hole, using some of the ruined walls of the chamber below as stepping stones to get to the bottom. Several floorboards promptly disappeared as the Hedge Pupil joined him, and Plague Knight took the rope ladder back down into the lair. 

“Well, Hedge? How’d he like it?” called Mona, who was back to work. 

“He loves it!” squealed the Hedge Pupil, scampering off, “I’ll guard it with my life, Plague Knight! You can count on me!! I just have to get back to my studies, now! Thanks so much for hearing me out..!”

Plague Knight watched him go bemusedly. 

“Heh. Enthusiastic, that one.”

“Very.”

Plague Knight glanced up at Mona, who was hooking up several wires to some kind of contraption next to the spherical glass cauldron. Her expression was one of eager concentration, and she had a pair of goggles pushed up on her forehead, which caused her hair to bunch up around the elastic in a funny way. Plague Knight caught himself staring dreamily.

“Hey, can you give me a hand, here?” 

Mona’s sudden request caused him to jump and scramble to compose himself. 

“Erm, yes! What’s the matter..?”

Mona was standing back and holding a pair of wires. There was another pair sitting on the ground, which she pointed out to her partner.

“Pick those up and touch them together when I do,” she said, “I want to see if they’ll function in tandem. This part needs a lot of electricity and I need to know if my circuits are in working order.”

Plague Knight nodded and stooped to pick up the wires.

“Ah-ah! Wait– You need safety gear,” Mona conjured a pair of gloves and goggles and tossed them to Plague Knight, who put them on, “Okay. Just wait for my signal, then touch the metal bits at the ends together…”

Once both of them were ready, Mona shifted her weight a little from foot to foot, sizing up her contraption. Then she slotted her goggles down over her eyes. 

“Alright… on your mark… get set… touch!”

Plague Knight pressed the wires together as Mona did the same. Before them stood two skinny vertical tracks, one on each side of the large glass sphere. As the wires met, a pair of conductors rattled up the metal spires, and with a loud crackling, a bolt of electricity arced between them, passing through the empty glass. The conductors began to move down the tracks slowly, their electric bridge following them. The crackling became louder and louder as they moved, and the arm of light began to waver wildly. 

“Come on… come on…” said Mona, fervently, watching intently as the light played eerily on her face, “You can make it..!”

Apparently not, it seemed. With a colossal pop, the conductors blew out, and one of the tracks toppled over with a clang. Mona gave a deep sigh and dropped her wires, and Plague Knight followed suit.

“Guess I’ll need to play around with those a little more, then,” she said, dully.

“Heh! It was kind of fun, I must say,” said Plague Knight, nearing her, slightly, “As I’ve said before, all of this is… really impressive. I haven’t seen this much mechanical ingenuity in one place since the Clockwork Tower.” 

Mona pushed up her goggles and gave a wistful little sigh, “Ah… The Clockwork Tower… You’re so lucky. They say it’s almost ninety-percent moving machinery. The whole building is one huge, never ending contraption. It’s a marvel of engineering..! I’d love to go there…”

“Heh, well… Maybe when this is all over, I can take you up…” Plague Knight replied, eyeing her out of the corner of his vision, shyly. 

As he’d hoped, Mona shot him a smirk, and his heart fluttered.

“Let’s not make any plans just yet,” she said, “I haven’t even finished the Dynamo Decanter.”

Plague Knight flinched.

“T-the what?!”

“The Dynamo Decanter. This!” Mona pointed at her machine, “I thought a brilliant little number like this could use an equally snappy title. What do you think?”

“I think you should change it,” said Plague Knight pursing his lips.

Mona blinked, “What? Why?”

“It’s… I’m sure you could think of something even better,” he said, hastily.

Mona raised an eyebrow, “Plague Knight… What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing! Nothing… I just… Don’t liketheword…”

“Come again?”

“I… Don’t like the worddyna…”

Mona was smirking slightly now, and Plague Knight’s transmutated cheeks were beginning to heat up.

“You don’t like the word ‘dyna’? Why not?”

“No reason! It, uh… Just sounds… bad!”

“Plaguey. Tell me.”

Plague Knight’s cheeks reddened further with the use of his nickname, and his voice came out in a hoarse little whine, “If I tell you, you’ll laugh.” 

“Probably.”

There was a small silence. Mona stared at him expectantly with her glittering green eyes. Damn those exquisite eyes. Plague Knight puckered his lips bracingly, then exhaled.

“…Oh very well. Back when I was… trying to make a name for myself, I… well, I hadn’t yet made a name for myself,” he began, feeling heat consume him, “Before I was ‘Plague Knight’, I considered a number of alternatives… And since I used explosives… I came very close to calling myself…” 

Plague Knight gulped, “…Dyna-Knight.”

Mona’s lips and eyes formed a trio of perfect Os as he spoke, which only made his stomach churn harder.

“…Dyna-Knight,” she repeated.

“…Yes.”

“Like… like a pun on Dynami––“

“Yes!! Yes, yes!! You don’t need to spell it out, I came up with the damned thing myself, after all!”

Mona’s face was practically torn in half with an utterly gigantic rictus grin. Plague Knight wished he could melt through the floor like a failed experiment.  
Mona took a deep, shuddering breath, clearly suppressing a fountain of giggles. Plague Knight’s lips trembled.

“Don’t,” he said, “Don’t laugh.”

“Oh please, what do you take me for?” Mona replied, quickly banishing her grin and replacing it with one of her usual bored expressions, “You just told me something you’re clearly embarrassed about. I’m not going to laugh at you if it bothers you that much.”

Plague Knight blinked in surprised. He shuffled, shyly, tapping his fingers together.

“O-oh… Well. That’s, uh, that’s… very considerate… Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it… Dyna-Knight.”

Plague Knight flinched. A wicked little smirk was curling Mona’s lips.

“No. Don’t you dare,” he breathed.

“Dare?” she cooed, “Dare what, Dyna-Kni–“

“STOP!” Plague Knight fairly shrieked, “STOP IT!!!”

Mona pressed her fist to her lips, turning blue in the face with delight, “Oh, come on, D–”

“No! NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!”

Mona pouted, “Mmm, alright… How about… just Dynie, then?”

Plague Knight squawked in horror, “THAT’S EVEN WORSE!!!”

Mona finally broke down, cackling gleefully with one hand still pressed against her face. Plague Knight quietly shrivelled into a husk of mortification.   
And yet, buried beneath the fervent wish to disappear in a puff of smoke, Plague Knight felt a soft undercurrent of affection. He really, really did love that laugh. 

 

When his visit was over, Mona changed back into her plum coloured dress and followed him up the rope ladder into the chamber above. 

“Alright,” she murmured over Plague Knight’s sulky shoulder, “I’m sorry. That was a bit much.”

“Mm. It certainly was.”

“Are you mad at me..?”

“…I’m certainly not happy with you.”

He might adore Mona’s laugh, but she’d still wounded his pride with it. There was a small silence. 

“Alright, you can storm off in a huff in a second,” she murmured, and Plague Knight heard the sound of her desk chair scraping across the stones as she sat down in it, “But I need to ask you one last favour, whether I deserve it or not.”

Plague Knight turned to look at her, curiously.

“…Oh? Well, perhaps I’ll listen… perhaps I won’t,” he said, slyly, hoping to get back at her a little, “What favour is this?”

“The lab. I want you to name it.”

Plague Knight was taken aback.

“Name it..?”

“Yeah. You asked me to name the Explodatorium, so I thought…” she trailed off.

Plague Knight’s eagerness for revenge faded, and he went to run his finger along the bottom of his mask, before remembering he wasn’t wearing one. 

“Hmm…” he hummed, at length, “Why not… The Potionarium?”

He wasn’t as good at naming things as Mona was, but the word felt pleasing as it rolled off his tongue. 

“-arium, as in a place, and… Potion, because… well.”

Mona smirked. 

“I love–“ her smirk faltered, “I-I lo… I like it.”

She swept an errant lock of blue-purple hair behind her ear and looked away, “Uh… Anyway. Thanks for coming. I’ll… see you next time.”

Her voice had dipped back into its flat, monotonous range, and Plague Knight was beginning to feel the first warnings that his disguise would wear off, soon. It was time to go.

“Heehee… Next time, indeed..!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! The Serum's finally in the picture. I had a tonne of fun writing the recipe because I always thought it needed something appropriately whimsical. Also many thanks to 'anon' for the review; your words are far too kind. I'm glad to know everyone's still invested! Till next time... --TS


	15. The Alchemist's Haven

Next time turned out to be two weeks later, after Plague Knight had surreptitiously sent a group of his minions sneaking down into The Village to staff the Potionarium. According to a letter sent by Mona, all of them had arrived safely, and were settling into their new roles fairly well. Or, as well as the minions could.   
Plague Knight spent some time making sure none of the Enchantress’s forces picked up on his sudden loss of personnel. He had an excuse prepared for the disappearance of each one of them, as well as several plans to stall his adversaries while he covertly evacuated the Potionarium.   
Luckily for him, however, he didn’t need to use any of them. The only time the Order contacted him during that time was to acquire his professional diagnosis of the purity of a cache of riches they’d unearthed. Plague Knight had spent the day neck-deep in identification circles, tallying the karat of each golden coin. He grumbled the whole time about how this seemed more like a job for, well, TREASURE Knight, but it seemed the big lunkeroth was off doing ‘more important things’ for the Order. 

When Plague Knight finally arrived at The Village, he skirted the boarder until he reached the Hedge Pupil’s house. He rapped on the front door with a particular rhythm, and sure enough, the excitable young Hedgehog greeted him joyously.

“Hi, Plague Knight! Welcome back!”

“Heh, yes, hello,” said Plague Knight, already slipping past his prickly pupil and making for the secret entrance. 

Once he reached the sewers, he splashed along, idly imagining ways to keep his legs dry and clean for any future visits. As he neared the end of the passage, Plague Knight became aware of a faint sound from up ahead. Drawing even closer, he realized it was music. He was able to hear it clearly as he crept towards the hole down into Mona’s side room.   
It was a fast-paced, piping tune. Plague Knight recognized the throaty wheeze of a pipe organ, the hissing twang of a harpsichord, both surmounted by the tinkling of a strange, high-pitched instrument he didn’t know.   
The melody wouldn’t sound out of place in a fairground. It rolled up and down with fierce, dizzying vivacity; skipped back and forth with a devilish, jubilant grace. It was both delighted and devious all at once. It commanded movement, banished stillness. Plague Knight found himself unable to resist bobbing his head along with it as it drifted up towards him, though he dared not descend into the chamber. He could see some kind of commotion going on below, accompanied by the startling sound of shattering glass. Someone was rushing back and forth, and beakers full of liquid were tumbling through the air.   
Eventually, the chaos came to a close, and Plague Knight heard Mona’s voice carry over the panting of the figure below.

“You got fifty-six points! That’s not very good, though. If you’re trying to impress me, you should try for seventy-five next time…” 

There was a piteous groan, and the figure shuffled out. Moments later, Plague Knight heard the false wall return itself to its place, and watched as the glass shards disappeared. Plague Knight poked his head through the hole.

“Yoohoo!” he called, in a stage whisper, “Guess who? Heehee!”

He saw Mona flinch, then glance up.

“Wait a little longer, next time!” she hissed, “That oaf could still be by the door..!”

Nevertheless, there was a not-smile blazing in her eyes, and she immediately banished the floorboards as Plague Knight made his way down to meet her. Mona conjured a little sign reading ‘Out To Lunch’ and placed it on her desk, then descended into the lab below. 

The lab itself was more impressive than ever. Now that it was stocked with minions, a liveliness seemed to pervade its previously dingy halls. Plague Knight saw several green-clad figures working on the Dynamo Decanter, while others bustled back and forth, carrying supplies.

“Welcome back to the Potionarium,” said Mona, giving her skirts a flourish to transform them into her lab attire. 

“Hee! Looks like everything’s falling into place!” replied Plague Knight, gleefully, peering around at the bustling halls. 

“Yeah, it’s going pretty well,” said Mona, heading over to her shelves and snapping her fingers, loudly. 

Nothing appeared out of nowhere, but the nearby minions immediately looked up.

“Alright, everyone. Break time,” she called, “Reconvene in twenty minutes.”

The minions gladly put down their tools and began to shuffle out of the lab. A few of them waved shyly at Plague Knight as they passed.

“Hi boss!”

“Hi boss!”

“Nice to see you again, boss!” 

After they’d all left, Mona approached the Dynamo Decanter’s main tank and gazed into its green-glass depths. 

“It’s nearly complete,” she murmured, almost to herself, “Soon… we can test it.”

Plague Knight chuckled, “Let’s hope it doesn’t blow up in your face, heehee!”

Mona turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “Didn’t you tell me once that the bigger the explosion, the better the alchemist..?”

Plague Knight giggled, “Heh, I did! But I think it applies rather more to intentional explosions…” 

Mona closed her eyes gave an acquiescent shrug. Plague Knight watched her for a few moments, then decided to satisfy his curiosity about the little scene he’d nearly dropped in on earlier. 

“Hey, Mona,” he said, causing her to open her eyes again and straighten up, “What was all that about? Just before I came in, heehee? It sounded like you were having a party..! Why wasn’t I invited?”

Mona snorted, “It’s not much of a party if it’s only one game. It’s… my new job. Didn’t I mention it, before?” 

“No, I had no idea you’d started freelancing behind my back! Hee!”

Mona rolled her eyes, “Oh please. Don’t be like that. It’s my cover. When you got carted off to the Order, I had to throw a bit of a tantrum. Make sure people thought we’d split for good.”

Plague Knight raised an eyebrow under his mask, “A tantrum? You?”

“Not the throw-yourself-on-the-floor-and-scream kind,” Mona clarified, “I just faked crying and told everyone you’d tried to lock me in the dungeons and that I’d escaped by the skin of my teeth. I’m staying ‘hidden’ in my side room for my own ‘protection’, you see. I had to pretend I’d quit alchemy, though, so I leaned hard into the witch thing, and…”

Mona snapped her fingers and conjured a mid-sized flask, “I took up entertainment. Say hello to Mona, the Game Master.”

Plague Knight smirked, “Hello, Mona the Game Master.”

Mona rolled her eyes, and tossed the flask into the air, “It’s just a simple hit-the-targets setup. If you score over a certain amount of points, I hand out treasure… but the game itself costs one hundred gold. Most people are terrible at it, but very eager to improve, so I make a tidy little profit.” 

As the flask descended, Mona banished it with a puff of blue smoke. It reappeared on the shelf behind her. She was getting really quite good at that particular trick. 

Plague Knight grinned under his mask, “Hee! Delightful! And that little ditty is pretty fun, too.”

“Oh, the music? Yeah… I commissioned it from the Bard. I thought it would make the sound of shattering glass a little less nerve-wracking,” she tugged at her gloves a little, “He told me he’d ‘capture my essence’ with his instrumentation.”

She chuckled.

“I told him it was okay, I guess. I mean, I like it, I… I really like it.” she let go of her glove with a snap, “But he doesn’t have to know. …Funny coincidence, huh? Him, mentioning essences, while we..?” 

It was a funny coincidence. But Plague Knight realized that the Bard had done an uncannily good job. Mona had a very stony, apathetic demeanour around strangers and people in general, and, by her own admission, it seemed the Bard was no exception. Yet, somehow, he’d still managed to capture Mona with his music, just like he’d said he could. Not the Mona everyone else saw, but the real Mona, the one Plague Knight had the privilege of being able to see. The Mona who practically danced around the lab, building ingenious contraptions and laughing diabolically with that rictus and those glittering, effervescent green eyes.   
Perhaps the Bard was a magic user himself. Or even an alchemist. 

“Heh, he’s certainly talented. Perhaps I should pay him a visit, too…” said Plague Knight, stroking his mask thoughtfully. 

“Hmm. Well now I’m curious to hear what he’d dream up for you. You should,” said Mona, “But I hope its nowhere near as catchy as mine. It’s torture sitting at that desk the whole time. All I want to do when it plays is jump up and–“

Mona quickly silenced herself and blushed. Plague Knight perked up.

“Oh? Jump up and what..?”

“…Nothing.”

“Go on, Mona! Jump up and whaaat?” 

Mona scowled, deeply, “Nothing!”

“Hee! Jump up and… down, perhaps? That would be a sight to see! Heeheehee!!!”

Mona’s blush increased and she folded her arms, “In your dreams.”

Plague Knight snickered, “I don’t dream. I barely sleep.”

“Then I guess you’ll never see me jump up and down.”

Plague Knight was just about to reply when there was a loud crash from the room next door. Mona whirled around and hastened towards the ominous sound with Plague Knight at her heels. When the pair rounded the corner, they found a trio of minions flat on their behinds, a horrible mixture of chemicals and shattered glass pooling between them.

“B-b-bosses!” one squeaked at the sight of their superiors.

“W-w-we––“

“I-it was an a–“

“Oh for the sake of the GODS,” cried Plague Knight, storming forwards reflexively to scold the minions, “You blithering idiots! How many times have I told you not to–“

Mona suddenly put a hand on Plague Knight’s shoulder and eased him back. He fell silent, peering up at her in confusion.  
Mona swept forwards, towering over the minions like a black shadow of doom. They all quaked as they beheld her stony green face.

“…What happened,” she asked, flatly.

“W-we weren’t–“

“W-we knocked into each other on accident! We weren’t looking where we were going…”

“W-we’re sorry!”

Mona placed her hands on her hips, “What did you forget?”

“T…to watch where I was going.”

“N-not to run with chemicals.”

“B…both those things, ma’am.”

Mona nodded, “But you’ll remember next time, won’t you?”

There was a gentle but firm edge to her tone, promising consequences, but not outright doling them out. There was a blur of pink as all three minions nodded feverishly.

“Just clean up your mess and go back to your stations,” said Mona as they began climbing to their feet.

“Yes ma’am!”

“Of course, ma’am!”

“Thank you, ma’am!”

The trio quickly rushed off to acquire cleaning supplies for their task, and Mona shook her head with a small sigh. Plague Knight frowned.

“Mona! You’re really just going to let them off with a warning? Hee! These idiots have worked with us for more than a year– they should already know these rules and regulations! It’s ridiculous!”

“Throwing them in a dungeon or experimenting on them won’t help them remember any better, though,” said Mona, “Besides, they’ve got enough to worry about, just being here in the first place.”

“But if you’re so lenient on them, they’ll start slipping, heehee,” replied Plague Knight, “They’ll think they can get away with anything!”

“They’ll know when they’ve gone too far,” said Mona, narrowing her eyes, “Look, I know you’ve really been doubling down on the discipline lately, but things are different here. The minions are already stressed out from working in such a delicate area. We’re beset from both sides; The Village guards on one end, the Order on the other. One slip up and we could all be dead, or worse… They’re all feeling that pretty keenly and it’s making them nervous… What they need is… hope.”

Plague Knight blinked, “Heh, hope? Oh please.”

“I’m serious,” said Mona, “Hope… Hope binds people. It keeps them going. If they can hope for my mercy when they slip up like that, they’ll feel less pressed all the time. And the more relaxed they are, the less mistakes they’ll make… and the less mistakes they make, the closer we’ll all be to getting out of this, which is definitely something to hope for.”

Plague Knight stroked his mask thoughtfully. He supposed she had a point. 

“Well… I just don’t want them to cause you any problems, heh.”

“It’s alright. I can handle them,” Mona frowned out over the chamber, surveying the other minions as they went busily about their chores, “But it would be good if we had someone up there keeping us posted on the goings on… Hedge is on the outside, but he’s busy guarding the secret entrance… Plus, I’m not sure I trust him with something like this…” 

Plague Knight frowned. It would be good to have someone to watch over the Potionarium to make sure nobody caught wind of its workings. They couldn’t trust any of the minions to do it, no matter how well disguised, and Mona herself couldn’t stray far from her side room for too long… What they needed was someone well-established above-ground. Someone people trusted. Something of a double-agent…  
Plague Knight perked up suddenly and cackled with glee. He’d just remembered the idea he’d had some time prior.

“Hee! Mona! Can you go upstairs and call the Magicist down here?”

Mona blinked, “…The Magicist? Here? Why?”

“Just trust me!” said Plague Knight, cheerily, “If things go awry, I’ll dispatch her myself, heehee!”

Mona gave a small shrug, “Alright then…”

With a whirl of her cape, she was suddenly in her plum robes again, and a moment later, she’d disappeared up the rope ladder to the chamber above.   
After a minute or two, Mona returned, trailing the Magicist, who was looking as dreamy as ever.

“Oh my… I had no idea all this was here…” she murmured as she glanced around at the walls in a sleepy sort of awe, “You were ever so good at hiding it, Mona…”

“Erm, right,” said Mona, turning to Plague Knight, uncertainly.

Plague Knight clacked his staff on the stone floor to catch the Magicist’s attention.

“Heehee! Magicist! Hello! Remember me?”

The Magicist slowly turned to face him, and her pretty face lit up with a sunny smile.

“Oh..! Plague Knight..! It’s nice to see you again! But, wait, uh… Didn’t you go off somewhere..? Hmm…”

Mona’s mouth fell open, “Wait– Hang on a moment– Y-you know each other?” 

Plague Knight sighed at the Magicist’s usual cluelessness, and chuckled at Mona’s shock, “Heh, yes! I aided her in a little family matter some time ago… and she’s promised me a favour in return!”

Mona twisted up her lips, narrowing her eyes, “Plague Knight…”

“Well, don’t you think she’s perfect? Look at her!”

Plague Knight waved at the Magicist, who was smiling benignly at the pair of them. From the tip of her tasseled cap to the points of her pretty blue heels, she was the picture of innocence. Nobody would ever suspect her involvement in something as eerie and arcane as a secret alchemical base. 

“Well, she’s definitely nothing like any of us,” said Mona appraisingly, looking her up and down, “But… Well. Do you think she could handle it..? Or if she’s even on board..?”

“Heh, I’ll ask! Magicist, remember that favour you owe me..?”

The Magicist nodded and bowed low, “I’m eternally, um, grateful for what you did for me and my family. I promise to serve you in whatever capacity you require… good?”

Plague Knight chuckled, “Listen closely, Magicist! Recently, I’ve had the misfortune of being drafted into the Order of No Quarter… I’m sure you’ve heard of them, heehee? Well, I have no intention of remaining a longterm member, and am currently in the process of… quitting, as it were, heeheehee… Said process is a lengthy and delicate one, mostly taking place down here, in this marvellous headquarters! The only problem is that it’s all got to be kept hush-hush… and we could really use someone topside to make sure nobody stumbles upon anything they shouldn’t… Do you understand, or shall I rephrase that, heehee?”

The Magicist was silent for so long that Plague Knight was almost sure he’d broken something in her brain. Just as he was about to wave his staff in her face, she came alive again, her fair brows knitting, slightly. 

“Um… Let me see… You want me to be an informant for your secret conspiracy against the villainous Order of No Quarter, so that you can eventually betray and destroy them with some kind of alchemical super weapon you’re building down here… right?”

There was another long silence, though this time the speechless ones were the pair of alchemists.

“That… Yes, that’s pretty much it,” said Mona, recovering first, “You… You’ll do it?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” said the Magicist, nodding, “I owe Plague Knight a great deal, and you’ve always been so kind to me, Mona…”

From Mona’s expression, Plague Knight could tell that was news to her.

“…and I would be honoured to play a part in the downfall of the fiends that have, um, enslaved The Valley… So, I’ll do it! You can count on me…”

“Heh, well then, it’s settled!” cried Plague Knight, cheerily, “Welcome aboard, Magicist, heeheehee!”

The Magicist beamed and bowed again, “I’ll do whatever I can do help..! In fact, um, I could brew something up right now, for you, if you’d like… Do you have any wormwood down here, Mona..?”

Mona seemed a little taken aback, but nodded, “Uh… Yes, I think so. I’ll check my drawers.”

Mona bustled over to her shelf of ingredients, and the Magicist approached Plague Knight.

“Are there any flasks down here I could use..?”

“Heh, I think there are some in the workroom next door. We can set you up a little station, if you like!”

“Sure..!”

Plague Knight lead the Magicist into the other room and found her an empty stall to set up in. As he did so, he heard the clatter of hooves on stone.

“Plague Knight! Long time no see!” whinnied Percy, who had leapt down from his own stall to greet his old ‘friend’.

Plague Knight was already preparing a sarcastic reply when Percy’s attention was suddenly drawn off course. He perked up considerably at the sight of the Magicist beside Plague Knight, straightening up and puffing out his chest somewhat.

“Oho! And who’s this bewitching specimen you’ve brought with you, old friend?” 

“This is the Magicist,” said Plague Knight, testily, “She’s here to work.”

From the tone of his voice and his aggressively tapping foot, Plague Knight made it clear to Percy not to bother his new employee. Percy, predictably, ignored him completely. 

“Greetings, my lady,” said the Equine, grandly, “My name is Sir Percival. I am the resident ballistics and trajectories expert! May I have the pleasure of knowing your name..?”

The Magicist simpered and bowed to him, “My name was Euphemia… but I’ve pledged myself to the vocation of Magicist, so that is how you may address me…”

“Ah! Charmed, Madame Magicist,” said Percy, bowing back, “I will be delighted to work alongside you!”

Plague Knight clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t you have some… hay to be scoffing, Percy?” he said, before leaning in, “Although, I’d advise against it, after last time… You do remember last time, don’t you? Or do I have to remind you, heeheehee…” 

Percy’s ears swung downwards, momentarily, before his eyes flicked from the very annoyed Plague Knight to the happily oblivious Magicist. His eyebrows shot into his tousled sandy mane, and he leaned back, chuckling.

“Ohoho! I see, I see..! Don’t say another word, Plague Knight, I understand… I’ll just be at my station…”

With that, Percy swept his feathered cap off in a gesture of parting, then cantered back to his stall. The Magicist stared after him, vaguely.

“He seems nice…” she murmured.

“And completely incomprehensible, hee!” said Plague Knight, wondering what Percy had been babbling about just now.

He didn’t have time to waste on thinking about it, however, because Mona was back with the wormwood.

“Here you go,” she said, dropping a fistful of sprigs into the Magicist’s hands, “Will this do?”

“Oh, yes… I’ll just get the rest of my stuff, shall I..?” 

“Um, sure…”

The Magicist bustled off, leaving Mona and Plague Knight alone at her station.

“Well, she’s… something,” said Mona, watching her go.

“Heh, she’s more than little loopy, isn’t she?” 

Mona sighed, “Oh thank goodness. I thought you hadn’t noticed.”

“Hee! Oh Mona! I’m not blind! But I think she’ll make an excellent spy… She’s so strange that, even if she does slip up, nobody will take heed of anything she says! Just the meaningless babble of a spacey sorceress, heeheehee!”

Mona snorted softly, “Well, I trust you.” 

She turned back to her lab, peering through the doorway, “Hey, could you come look at something with me, actually? I’ve been a little stumped…”

Plague Knight perked up and followed Mona over to her workstation, where a number of books and papers were spread out all over the table.

“I’ve been looking into the ingredients for the Serum,” she said, “and researching Essences, especially. I’m almost certain I can contain and stabilize them when we collect them, but the actual collection is the problem…”

Mona waved at the mess on her table, “I haven’t been able to find a single clue as to how to obtain one. There’s one, lone passage about one being able to freely give one’s Essence if one so choose, but it doesn’t explain how.”

Plague Knight stroked his mask, “What exactly are Essences, again? How much do we know about them?”

“They’re the concentrated energy form of someone’s… self-ness,” Mona explained, “They’re called Essence for a reason, after all. In magic, the Essence is usually useful because of its chiefest trait. For example, if someone is particularly brave, you can use their Essence to brew an extremely powerful Draught of Courage. Problem is, Essences are vastly unstable in open air and will either dissipate or wreak havoc on anything nearby. Luckily, I’ve got that part covered…” 

Plague Knight nodded, peering down at the pages on the table. All the writing was very old; some even in the Old Old Language itself. Dotted here and there were illustrations of mages holding what appeared to be glowing spheres. One picture depicted one of the spheres emerging from the chest of a very bored looking knight with an arrow in his leg.

“Heh, hmm… A conundrum indeed,” he said, “If I could just obtain a sample to test its material composition, I might have an idea of how it works, and then attempt an extraction… but to get the sample, I’d need to know how to extract it, heh..! Impossible…”

Mona slumped, “Great… Well, that’s one hell of a roadblock.”

“Wait a moment,” cried Plague Knight, hastily, “I’m not giving up! I’m simply stating how difficult it will be, heehee! You know ‘impossible’ is my middle name! I’ve done hundreds of impossible things during my lifetime! I’m sure we can figure out one more…”

He felt ashamed that he couldn’t provide Mona with an immediate answer; looking weak in her eyes was terrible, but looking stupid was even worse. 

“Heh, tell you what; I’ll sleep on it. I promise, I’ll come up with something.”

Mona cocked her head gently to one side, “You don’t have to do it all on your own. We’re in this thing together…”

“Well, I think it’s high time I started pulling my weight. You’ve already built your machine and begun identifying the other mysterious ingredients. What have I done?”

“You’ve been busy,” she said, giving him a playful nudge, “But I appreciate it. Just don’t fry your brain, alright?”

“If I do, I’ll save you a slice for breakfast!”

Mona shot him a look at his strange little joke, then gave him the directions towards the sleeping areas. Plague Knight headed off, deep in thought. He would definitely have to figure out how to obtain an Essence, or their plans would come to screeching halt. And he couldn’t afford that. He needed the Serum to best the Enchantress, but even more importantly, he needed it to become someone Mona might admire.   
He quickly found himself being distracted by thoughts of exactly what that would mean; stronger? Definitely. Taller? He hoped so. Handsome? Well, that was a stretch, but he supposed it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for The Ultimate Potion.   
Despite saying he’d sleep on it, Plague Knight had no intention of doing anything of the sort. Instead, he paced in circles just outside the sleeping area, reluctantly dragging his mind away from his fantasies and trying to focus on the task at hand…

\- - -

The next day, Plague Knight swallowed his usual dose of vitamin goo and made his way to the main lab. Unfortunately, he had not managed to come up with a brilliant solution to their problems overnight, though he did have the beginnings of a hypothesis. Luckily, he didn’t have to explain any of that to Mona, since she wasn’t there. Minions bustled about, doing this and that, but their mistress was nowhere to be found. Plague Knight assumed she’d gone topside to work her game for a while.   
Plague Knight approached her workstation and began shuffling through her notes, careful not to move any too far from their original places. He was halfway through a text when he realized he was reading Mona’s personal notebook. He quickly let go of the page, feeling as if he were intruding, before gingerly peeking back in. She probably wouldn’t mind, right? Besides, it wasn’t like it was a diary or anything.

Mona’s cramped but legible handwriting was grouped into organized little blocks detailing her research on the various aspects of the Serum Supernus. Plague Knight noted her rather adorable habit of adding several exclamation points after things she was excited about, as well as the choppy, stream-of-consciousness comments that cropped up here and there.

‘Serum Supernus! Ultimate Potion!! Can’t believe this!!!’  
‘Three ingredients- so cryptic. why? Just tell me what it is I don’t want puzzles I want alchemy!!!’  
‘Phlegmatic praise - gross!!!’

Doodles cropped up as well. Some were actual diagrams and sketches of parts of the Dynamo Decanter, or special alchemical circles tailored to the task ahead. Others, however, were little drawings of silly imagined scenarios in which they completed the Serum. One depicted Plague Knight as a giant, towering over The Valley, whilst another showed him shooting what appeared to be lasers out of the palms of his hands. Plague Knight found himself giggling at the silliness on display. He noted another picture, which had been scribbled over. Behind the harsh black zigzag, Plague Knight could just make out a sketch of Mona herself, with her head wreathed in flowers, carrying a vessel in her arms. His heart skipped a beat as he realized it was an imitation of an illustration of the embodiment of Alchemy. It was an illustration he knew very well. He ran a finger over the image, wishing he could wipe away the scribble overtop. He supposed the defacement meant Mona thought it had been a hubristic idea, or else that it was impossible to achieve. Plague Knight disagreed. If Mona wanted to become the very living embodiment of Alchemy, he would damn well help her get there.

He paused a moment, lingering on the image, before turning the page and discovering a section on magic. Mona’s notes were more frustrated in tone. More passages were struck out with harsh black lines, and even the handwriting itself was sharper and thicker.

‘Summoning/Banishing coming along well. Just about the only thing.’  
‘Created flames today. Was wishing to light someone on fire. Magic = wishes? Have to concentrate– have not been able to replicate scenario.’   
‘Teleportation still so difficult!!! GAH! Odd trend- can teleport directly to PK at all times?? Only reliable destination. Why? Very easy- PK some kind of magical beacon? Doubtful. Research.’

Plague Knight blinked at this last note. He assumed ‘PK’ stood for his own monicker. But that meant… she could always teleport to his side? No matter what?   
A flush crept up his neck as he thought about how awkward this could prove to be. But then again, Mona didn’t just teleport places willy-nilly, much less to him. If he thought about it, he could only remember three instances that she’d done so. He just hoped she wouldn’t choose to surprise him at an inopportune moment…

Plague Knight finally closed the notebook and leaned against the table, thoughtfully. Seeing the pages on magic made him recall his own rather bumpy first try at the art. With a shock, he realized that his first magic lesson had been the first time he’d felt the symptoms of his affliction. When Mona had tucked herself around him to show him how to direct his staff… The warmth in his cheeks increased and he found himself wrapping one hand around the implement in question.   
He drew it out of his belt and struck it through the air, thinking the Old Old words as hard as he could. There was a faint crackle, but nothing happened. Plague Knight sighed and spoke the incantation aloud, trying again.   
This time, a vat popped into existence before him. He stared into its glassy depths and frowned. 

‘I want to be better at magic,’ he thought to himself, ‘I want to impress Mona.’

Seemed like a pretty straightforward plan. And in fact, he realized he had someone on hand who could help him in that endeavour. And who knew? Perhaps a little magic might help him figure out how to harvest Essences?

Plague Knight hastened over to climb the rope ladder to the sealed floorboards and pressed his ear to them. He couldn’t hear any smashing or music, so he risked giving the boards a sharp knock with his bony little knuckles. A few moments later, the wood disappeared and Mona was towering over him.

“Good morning,” she said, “I think we need to think of a better way to communicate.”

“Heh, definitely,” said Plague Knight, “Ah, Mona, could you ask the Magicist to come down here? I need to… consult with her.”

Mona cocked her head, slightly, but didn’t ask. She looked as if she was going to step right over the hole in the floorboards over Plague Knight’s head, before prudently walking around it instead and disappearing. A few moments later, the Magicist knelt by the hole and peered down.

“Oh, hello, Plague Knight,” she said, softly, “I’m sorry, I got caught up organizing supplies last night, and um, forgot to bring them all down… I have them now, though… I can still make that thing for you…”

She did indeed have a clinking bag slung over her back.

“Hee! Listen, I need to, uh, discuss something with you. Would you mind coming to the lab with me..?”

“Oh, alright…”

Plague Knight descended the ladder, and the Magicist climbed down after him. Mona watched them until they were safely on the ground, then sealed the exit over them.  
Plague Knight ushered the Magicist into one of the storerooms and checked to make sure none of the minions were passing by too closely. He turned back to her, fumbling with his sleeves.

“Erm, Magicist…”

“Yes..?”

“I… Hee, well! You’re a Magicist. You know all about magic, and how to, uhhh, teach it…”

“Oh, yes, I’ve been trained for that. That’s one of the things a Magicist is meant to do, yes!”

“Well..! I was wondering if you could do that for me…” Plague Knight held out his staff to her, “Here is my magical implement! I have no inborn magic, alas, so I control the element via this staff… Hee! Show me how to master it!”

The Magicist took his staff and turned it thoughtfully over in her hands. Plague Knight watched her intently, anxious to have it back. The Magicist frowned slightly, then returned it to him.

“Oh my. This staff is imbued with very potent magic that I’ve never come across before… It’s not Wizzem magic, or Mage magic, Witch or Wizard magic or even Sorcery… It feels a little like an, um, ancient enchantment or something… Maybe?” 

Plague Knight had no idea what any of this meant. 

“Mona made it,” he explained, a little shyly, “It’s got her magic in it…”

The Magicist was silent for a few moments before nodding, “Ohh. I see. Well, I suppose I’ll just, um, do my best… good?”

Plague Knight nodded impatiently.

“What would you like to learn first..?”

“Summoning! Especially summoning things of an ethereal nature, hee! I can only conjure vats at the moment.”

“Oh, yes, I see. Well, summoning is a good place to start… Let’s go from there…”

For the next hour, the Magicist wafted from one end of the room to the other, rambling on dreamily about the intricacies of magic-using. Plague Knight did his best to follow her instructions and copy her movements. Despite her vague nature, Plague Knight appreciated her teaching style. Any time a method didn’t work, she’d allow him to try again three times before promptly moving onto another. 

“Well, I suppose trying Wizzish summoning was a silly idea,” she said airily as Plague Knight failed to make a nearby box of quill nibs appear in his hand, “Let’s try a Sorcerial incantation instead…” 

Method after method failed, and Plague Knight began to wonder if he could even summon vats anymore. He sighed quietly as he failed once again to make anything jump into his general vicinity. So much for increasing his magical prowess, and by extension, impressing his crush. He could picture her doing it in an instant; with the snap of her fingers, she could call anything to her side. She could probably do the same with him, though she wouldn’t need any enchantment to do so. Plague Knight sighed and tapped his staff one last time on the stone floor.

There was a sudden thud as the box of nibs slammed to the ground beside him, bouncing onto its side as it landed and sending a clatter of tiny metal trinkets scattering across the floor.  
Plague Knight leapt back in surprise, and the Magicist opened her mouth in a look of muted shock.

“Oh..! You did it! Well done… Um, which incantation was that..?”

“I-I don’t know,” said Plague Knight, truthfully. He hadn’t been concentrating. But just like with the vats, it seemed the magic had backed up in the staff. The force of the repeated summons had combined to cause the box to fairly smash itself into the stones beside him. 

“Oh, well, it’s a start…” said the Magicist, using one of her own golden spells to clean up the spilled nibs, “Is there anything else you’d like to try..?”

Plague Knight tapped his mask, thoughtfully.

“Heh… You wouldn’t be able to teach me how to fly, would you?”

“Hmm… The ability to make oneself fly is usually only available to, um, magic-users…” said the Magicist, uncertainly, “But I could teach you how to make your staff levitate, and then you could, uh, hang onto it…”

Plague Knight supposed that was the best he was going to get. 

“Heh, lead on then, teacher!”

The Magicist nodded and explained how to create a burst of energy to send his staff skyward. If he held on tight, he would be born along with the implement into the air. Plague Knight once again set himself to copying her methods, with no success. He could still feel the staff buzzing in his hands, but he didn’t rise even an inch off the ground.   
Plague Knight sighed in irritation. Why was magic so bloody difficult? It wasn’t methodical, like alchemy, but intuitive and strange… It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it at all, but the infrequency of success made learning new spells infuriating. The possibility of succeeding danced in plain sight, but just out of reach. Plague Knight chased it furiously. He had to catch it. For Mona. To show her… to show her he could…

Plague Knight swung his staff through the air in a fierce arc, letting off a little of his frustration. Before he knew what was happening, the piece of wood jerked hard in his hand and yanked him halfway across the room.

“Ooph!”

“Agh!”

Plague Knight lay spreadeagled for a moment, stunned, before pushing himself up. With a flinch, he realized that the floor under him was uncannily soft, and that it wasn’t floor at all, but flesh. It seemed he’d flown directly into the Magicist and bowled her over. She was laying dazedly beneath him, blinking in confusion.  
Plague Knight quickly rolled off her and offered his hand to help her up.

“Hee! Whoops! I wasn’t looking where I was swinging…”

Plague Knight heard a soft squeak from beside him, and swivelled his head towards the noise as the Magicist took his hand.

Standing in the doorway to the storeroom was a gaggle of minions. They were all staring in shocked silence. Some had their hands over their beaks. Plague Knight peered at them, quizzically. 

“What are you looking at, hee? Get back to wor–!” he shouted, before the Magicist attempted to pull herself up on his arm and caused him to overbalance. 

He nearly toppled onto her again, but swinging out his staff-arm reflexively as he fell caused another burst of energy. This dragged him into the air again, and by extension, the Magicist herself, clinging onto his hand. When he landed back on the ground, she steadied herself on her feet and began brushing down her skirts.

“Well, you did a very good job, um, Plague Knight,” said the Magicist, “Um, but, I’m sorry… I think I should go back upstairs and um, check to see if I have any customers… Is that alright..?”

“Heh, of course! Your services were most appreciated,” replied Plague Knight.

Perhaps it was best to put magic to the side, for now. He could always try again, later. The Magicist disappeared -literally, into a shining golden mist- and Plague Knight made his way back to the main lab. He noticed the group of minions from before clustered in the hallway, whispering. They jumped and scuttled away at the sight of him. Plague Knight shook his head in befuddlement. What were they all being so conspiratorial about? 

‘It had better not be an uprising,’ he thought grimly to himself, ‘or I’m going to have to break Mona’s hope rule, heeheehee…’

Speaking of Mona, Plague Knight hoped she might be back in the lab, and hastened to get there. Unfortunately, he was accosted just before he could enter by Percy, who was looking jovial as usual.

“Ah, Plague Knight!” he cried as the little alchemist attempted to dodge him, “Just the man I was looking for!

“What do you want, Percy,” Plague Knight grumbled, not at all interested in interacting with the idiotic Equine. 

Percy beamed, “I’ve just set up the most marvellous trajectory! A perfect, direct flight between the outskirts of The Village and the very front gardens of the Explodatorium! You shan’t need to make the long return trip on foot anymore, and once we set up a twin at your other base, you shan’t need to use that silly Outpost catapult anymore, either! Come, take the maiden flight!”

Plague Knight tried to argue that he didn’t want to leave the Potionarium yet, but Percy would have none of it. The Horse practically dragged the little alchemist through the dingy passageways out of the secret laboratory and into the nearby forest, where his catapult was waiting.  
Plague Knight groaned in exasperation as he was chivvied towards the bucket.

“Hee! I can walk by myself, thanks!” he squawked, pulling sharply away from Percy and smoothing his robes. 

He’d had far too much physical contact for his liking today. He did, however, grudgingly climb into the bucket and sit quietly while Percy made a few last minute tweaks. He supposed he could always take the Outpost catapult back, again. 

KA-CHUNCK

The arm was released, tossing Plague Knight high into the stratosphere. He tucked his limbs reluctantly in and clutched his staff to make sure it didn’t slip out of his grasp in the high wind. He couldn’t help but enjoy the flight a little, as he usually did, although his mood began to descend just as his body did as well. He was not heading towards the Explodatorium. He wasn’t heading towards anything. As he fell, the only terrain that greeted him was open sea.

Plague Knight bomb-bursted to break his fall, but hit the water pretty hard anyway. For a moment, he was submerged in freezing wet blueness. He immediately held his breath, and his ears popped as cold water rushed into them. Panicking, he raised his staff and focused as hard as he could on going up. Blessedly, the spell worked, and he came flying out of the water like a leaping fish. His mask had spared him from inhaling any seawater, but this was a small blessing. As he descended again, he waved his staff once more before he hit the water and whizzed back into the air.   
He continued this awkward leaping dance over the waves for some time, trying to figure out how to get to land. He was pretty far out, and he wasn’t a strong enough swimmer to make it all the way to the shore. He tried using one of his teleportation bombs, but found, to his horror, that his dip in the ocean had waterlogged his entire stock. 

“Percy..! I’ll skin you alive!” he snarled, aloud. 

He was just thinking that he might be able to angle his staff in such a way that it skipped him across the water to safety, when something else to contend with appeared in midair, right next to him.  
Mona came flying out of nowhere in a flash of blue light. Her face went from a grimace of anxiety to a gasp of horror as she got her bearings. 

“W-WAHH!” she screamed, and grabbed Plague Knight with all four limbs. Plague Knight squirmed in her arms, trying to extricate himself as they fell. 

They hit the water with a loud splash, and Mona let go of Plague Knight to thrash around, desperately trying to make it to the surface. Plague Knight frantically tried to avoid her flailing limbs and performed another leap spell. As he rose out of the water, he glanced back down panically. Mona clearly couldn’t swim, but how on earth could he possibly save her? She was moving so erratically that getting close would probably only reward him with a nice shiner, and even if he managed to keep her above water, they’d still be stuck in the middle of the ocean. 

Plague Knight’s brain went into overdrive as he descended, an imagined clock ticking down the seconds to the horrible moment when Mona finally succumbed to the depths. All of this, however, was rendered meaningless a moment later, when Plague Knight hit solid ground. He lost his balance as the platform beneath him rocked wildly, then fell over. A moment later, the platform tipped again, and Plague Knight felt something slide up next to him.   
Sitting up, Plague Knight realized he was in the bottom of a battered rowboat. Mona was next to him, shaking and coughing, her hair plastered around her face and her dress clinging to her skin.

“Mona!” Plague Knight gasped, scrambling to her side.

She hacked up another lungful of sea water and sucked in a large quantity of air.

“Pla –kahh kahh– ague, P-P– -kahh- ugh!” she spluttered, shuffling clumsily towards him and collapsing against him in a relieved embrace.

There was a long silence as the pair clung together in the sodden boat, the only sound the hush of the sea and their gasps for air. There was a small, almost tangible moment of realization as the two alchemists became aware of the intimacy of their position, and they sprang apart, causing the boat to list from side to side.

“P-Plague Knight,” Mona gasped, her cheeks blue from exertion and possibly discomfort, “W-what happened… Percy came running… said you’d flown off course?”

“Hee! I flew off course, did I? That absolute imbecile fired me straight into the ocean!” 

Mona let out a groan and fell back against the side of the boat, causing it to rock further.

“Oh for… That jackass… I can’t believe it…”

Plague Knight settled back as well, wishing his cold, wet clothing could stop the heat radiating through his body.   
They’d been so close, just now. So, so close. Plague Knight caught himself thinking this nightmarish detour was almost worth it, and nearly slapped himself. 

“Heh, why on earth did you teleport out here if you couldn’t swim, Mona?” he asked to mask his embarrassment, “If you hadn’t summoned this boat, I’m not sure if I could have saved you!”

Mona’s cheeks turned even bluer, “W-well, I didn’t know you’d gone into the ocean! I just knew you’d been tossed off course! I was afraid you might have been flung somewhere dangerous. I-I mean, what if you’d fallen into the Armour Outpost? They would have hacked you to pieces if you got stunned on landing!”

“But you’d have given away your position if you popped up trying to help me,” Plague Knight countered, “You could have blown your cover! I would have been fine by myself!”

Mona’s face was nearly purple and she clutched at her dress with paling knuckles, “Okay! It was a stupid, gut decision! I get it! Just–– Just leave me alone!”

There was a silence as Plague Knight flinched back at her harsh words. A moment later, Mona had pressed her fist over her mouth in anguish.

“I… sorry,” she said, shortly, her voice cracking, “I didn’t mean…” 

She drew her knees up to her face and hid, “It… it was stupid, I know. I’m mad at myself. I… I’m sure you would have been fine… I-I just… panicked, and… I’m…”

Plague Knight felt guilt claw at his insides. He had felt a little defensive and upset at the implication that he couldn’t take care of himself, but he’d mainly been worried about Mona’s safety. He hadn’t meant to make her feel like she’d done something wrong.

“It… Mona…” he muttered, haltingly, “…Y-you wouldn’t have ruined anything, I… Heh, we would have figured a way out, heehee! Just… just like we always do! After all, heh, we’re alchemists extraordinaire!..”

Mona fidgeted behind her skirts. Plague Knight coughed. 

“I… I was just, heh, worried… Didn’t… like watching you thrash around down there…”

If Mona hadn’t summoned the boat, she might have drowned. He might have drowned, too. Plague Knight felt a weight settle in his chest. Once again, his weakness had been close to costing them everything. If he was only stronger, bigger, he could have calmed Mona down and hauled her to the surface, kept her afloat, paddled them to shore… But instead, she’d bailed them out again, just as it was her unfailing wont to do. And now she seemed to think she’d somehow screwed up…

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I’m sorry I couldn’t…”

He saw Mona’s glittering green eyes peek over her knees, and suppressed the rather inappropriate thought of how sweet she looked doing so. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, flatly, “We’re alive. We’re in a boat. We’re fine.”

“Heh… what… who’s boat is this, exactly?” asked Plague Knight as Mona slowly uncurled herself and peered over the edge. 

“I don’t know… I know I’ve seen it before, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to summon it… I don’t think it matters either, though. Let’s just get back. I’m going to try to teleport us. I think I’m calm enough, now. Can you stand up with me?”

Plague Knight nodded and gingerly got to his feet in the narrow space. 

“I think there’s just enough room,” she said, “But… Well, it…”

“What’s wrong?”

Mona hesitated, “I’m… not one hundred percent sure where we’ll end up. I… I’m still not very good at teleportation. Oftentimes, I just end up somewhere completely random. It’s pretty unreliable, except…”

“…Except when you’re trying to get to me?”

Mona looked up sharply.

“W-what? H-how did you know?”

Plague Knight gulped. Oh dear.

“I… had a little look-see through your notebook, heehee!”

Mona’s face, which had been fading back to green, went violet again. 

“Y-you– What– H-how much did you–?”

“Only a few pages! I-I was just trying to research the Essence problem, heeheehee!”

Mona mouthed soundlessly a moment more, before exhaling deeply and running a hand over her face.

“…Next time, ask first,” she muttered, lowly, before taking a deep breath, “Now get over here.”

Plague Knight approached her, and Mona tucked her arms around him rather shyly. Plague Knight felt the usual tingling and heat as he pressed up against her hip, and in the next second, Mona had swung him forwards in a whirling motion. 

With incredible luck, the pair appeared in the very storeroom Plague Knight had been practicing in with the Magicist earlier. They stumbled a little as they landed and broke apart. 

“Thank the gods…” muttered Mona, “I need a change of clothes and a salad.” 

“Heh, and I need a whole new stock of bombs,” muttered Plague Knight, peeking sadly into his robes.

“What?!”

“They’re all waterlogged from my little splash, heehee…”

“…Percy! I’ll skin him alive!”

 

\- - -

 

After getting dry and lamenting his bombs a little more, Plague Knight supposed it was about time to make the trip back to the Explodatorium. Before he left, he promised Mona he’d look into obtaining Essences for her, then made his way through the tunnels to the outskirts of The Village.  
He was just creeping past the main square when he remembered the conversation he and his partner had had the day prior. He hesitated, weighing his options, then decided a little jaunt might be rather fun.   
He smoothed down his robes, drew out his walking stick, and strode confidently right into The Village square. The moment the Villagers caught sight of him, there was an uproar.

“Plague Knight!”

“It’s Plague Knight!”

“The Order’s descending! Everybody run!”

The clanking of armour met his ears and Plague Knight quickly and showily stuck his hand into his robes.

“HEE! Everyone, back off!” he shouted as loudly as he could, “I’m not here on business, but I’ll poison every single one of you if you come any closer!”

The approaching knights backed down, warily. Their helmets couldn’t protect them from toxic gas. 

“Heehee! Very good, very good! Glad to see that you all know my threats aren’t merely… bombastic in nature, heeheehee! Now, worry not. I’m only here to speak with your illustrious Bard… Bring him here!”

The Villagers shuffled, looking at one another with fearful expressions.

“D-don’t hurt him!”

“He’s a gentle soul, he has no business with your Order!”

“We’ll lay down our lives to protect him!”

Plague Knight couldn’t help but giggle at the dramatic display of valour from all these silly peasants. He was just about to mockingly call their collective bluff, when a helmeted figure came wending his way through the crowd.

“Peace, peace! Hail, Prince of Pestilence, Plague Knight! How perfectly perturbing to perceive you!”

The Bard himself gently stepped around his fellow Villagers and came to stand before Plague Knight, resplendent in orange, hat set jauntily askew and lute tucked comfortably under one arm. He seemed to be completely at ease, showing no fear whatsoever. In fact, an aura of warmth and calm surrounded him. Plague Knight once again wondered if this mysterious musician was in fact a magic-user…

“Heehee! Mr. Bard! I’ve heard from a reliable source that you’re quite the gifted musician!”

“If I weren’t, I’d hardly be a Bard, would I?”

Plague Knight frowned under his mask. He glanced around the Bard’s taller figure to see the Villagers still staring in terror. He brandished his staff.

“Away with you, heeheehee! Didn’t your parents tell you its impolite to eavesdrop?!”

The Villagers scattered. Plague Knight turned back to the Bard and peered up at him.

“Hee! As I was saying, I wish to make a commission!”

“A deceptive ditty for your poisonous personage? By all means! Only…”

Plague Knight cocked his head, “Only what, exactly?”

The Bard struck a tragic little pose, cupping his helmet in one hand, “I’m unusually uninspired! Beset by artist’s block! I could write you a caprice or a concerto, but it would not come quick…”

Plague Knight shook his head, “A-haha! That just won’t do! Hold fast a moment…”

He spun around and dug into his robes. He only had a small stock of Black Powder bombs since his others had been ruined in the sea, but the vials he had on him were still corked and undamaged. He dug out a few of them and started mixing them contentedly into a bomb casing.   
The Bard attempted to glance curiously over his shoulder, but Plague Knight shuffled away. Once he was finished, he turned around, tossing the sloshing concoction into the air and catching it again.

“Hee! How about a little creative catalyst?”

“Oh, well, that would be most welcome, but–“

Without waiting for the man to finish, Plague Knight whipped the casing directly at his face. It smashed against his helmet, dousing him in a spray of strong smelling chemicals.   
The Bard spluttered and clawed at his head before suddenly standing poker straight and silent. 

“…Oh! Gracious!” was all he could choke out before he turned tail and ran, moving like a man possessed. 

Plague Knight watched him go, chuckling. A little bit of vaguely hallucinogenic stimulant was sure to sort out his inspiration problem.   
With that, Plague Knight skipped contentedly out of The Village, taking a lungful of his own Sweet stimulant for the long road ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just wanted to thank you all again for your kind words– comments are always appreciated! I really hope to continue living up to your reviews in future chapters. --TS


	16. The Vital Vitriol

A week after Plague Knight’s return he was once again summoned to the Tower of Fate. Another awkward game of hide-and-seek with the escorts while he knocked back one of his transmutation potions ensued, then it was off to the black stone edifice at the eastern most point of The Valley.

The purpose of the day’s visit was another banquet. Plague Knight hated these; the Enchantress held them every now and again so that the Order members could communicate and network about their various plans and enterprises. If one was having trouble in their quadrant, the others were expected to provide aid. This way, their control over The Valley could never be tested. Unfortunately, this meant socializing with people Plague Knight would rather see in his dungeons than across the table from him, if at all.  
Today’s banquet, however, provided an opportunity for Plague Knight, so he did his best to feign civility. 

When he arrived in the dining hall, Plague Knight took his customary seat amongst the other Order members, and settled in to ignore to the usual babble. The only person he liked hearing from was Tinker Knight, who he’d come to respect over the course of their meetings. The little engineer was the only member of the Order who rivalled Plague Knight in terms of intelligence and ingenuity, and Plague Knight couldn’t help but appreciate that. There was also the fact that Tinker Knight was even shorter than Plague Knight, which made him feel a little less self-conscious about his diminutive stature. Even with his transmutated height, he was still the second shortest of the Order Knights.  
If Plague Knight had to call any of his coworkers a ‘friend’, it would be the little man in the welding mask three seats down. 

“How is your dig going, my bulbous brother in arms?” asked Propeller Knight from the left.

“Down another fifty stories! Should be closing in on a mile, soon!” said Mole Knight from the right, proudly.

“Oh, how impressive. You’ve managed to make your dirty hole a little deeper,” quipped King Knight sarcastically, cramming chicken under his helmet as he usually did.

“You wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss my ‘dirty hole’ if you’d seen the treasures unearthed!” retorted Mole Knight.

“I prefer treasure without the earth, thanks,” said King Knight, haughtily, “Preferably served to me squeaky-clean on a golden platter!”

“Hmph. You aristocrats don’t know anything about an honest day’s work. You’d die if you so much as set foot on soil! …Ah, no offence, Prop.”

Propeller Knight laughed, “None taken! But I will wager you are correct, mon ami; I do so hate touching the ground!”

Plague Knight listened idly to their chatter as he sprinkled a vial of powder into his goblet of juice, watching the others carefully to make sure none of them saw. He set the cup back on the table next to his untouched plate, then leaned back to wait a while longer.

“What’s it like up there in that infernal contraption of yours?” asked Mole Knight, curiously. 

“Ahh, it is beautiful. Pleasure such as the surface world has never known. The wind in your hair; he is marvellous! You should join me sometime, mon cher taupe; take a little break from your toil… have some fun!”

Mole Knight shook his head, “Nahh. Can’t abandon the dig! ‘Sides… I’m afraid of heights.”

Propeller Knight laughed amiably, and Mole Knight chuckled as well.

“Oh yes, heeheehee, you’re all so witty and charming,” Plague Knight muttered under his breath. 

“What was that, Plague Knight?” rumbled Mole Knight, sharply.

Plague Knight giggled, “Oh! I was just saying how I’d better snag myself some chicken before you gluttons eat it all!”

So saying, he stood up in his seat and stretched his arm across the table towards one of the platters of chicken. 

“Pardon my reach..!”

He deliberately moved in such a way that his long, trailing sleeve swept across the table and knocked over King Knight’s goblet of juice. King Knight flinched away from the spill of purple liquid and bristled.

“You clumsy oaf! Look what you’ve done!”

Plague Knight drew back, “Oh, dear me! I’m so very sorry, heeheehee! I’ve gone and stained the table cloth…”

“And spilled my juice!” shouted King Knight, furiously.

“Oh yes, that too, hee,” Plague Knight scooped up his own goblet and held it out to the grouchy golden Knight, “My humblest apologies! Please, take mine instead! It’s untouched…” 

“Hmph!” King Knight snatched the cup out of Plague Knight’s spindly green fingers. 

Plague Knight stifled his laughter and slipped silently back into his seat, his subterfuge complete. All of the sudden, there was a shout from down the table.

“Hey, Plague Knight!”

Plague Knight glanced up to see Tinker Knight stretched across the countertop, trying to get his attention.

“What?” the little alchemist called back, rather snappishly.

“Treasure and I are having a dispute! We need a third opinion! You’re good with metals, aren’tcha?”

Plague Knight snorted and got to his feet, ambling over to the left end of the table. As little as he liked interacting with the other members of the Order, he was at least inclined to listen to a fellow man of science. Plague Knight sneered behind his mask as he passed Spectre Knight, then sidled in between the arguing Order members. 

“What seems to be the problem, heehee?”

“Treasure Knight here says gold’s the most important metal,” said Tinker Knight, “I disagree. It’s clearly steel!”

“The world runs on gold,” said Treasure Knight, calmly, lifting his helmet so that he could be understood, “Steel can be bought and sold with gold.” 

“But steel’s far more useful,” countered Tinker Knight, “Gold’s soft and squishy! It’s no good unless you want to gild something!”

“Are your ears filled with filings..? Did you not hear what I just said?” rumbled Treasure Knight.

Plague Knight tittered, and Tinker Knight rounded on him.

“Well? What’s… Alkemology have to say about this?”

“It’s alchemy,” said Plague Knight, rolling his eyes under his mask, “And alchemy has no ranking for steel. Steel is an alloy, not an element, and the greatest of all elements is gold.”

Treasure Knight chuckled contentedly and Tinker Knight grumbled to himself.

“However…” said Plague Knight, smirking, “Gold and steel can both be created by alchemical means… And while steel is as strong and useful as any, I’m sure you, Treasure Knight, would not look so kindly upon the alchemical gold…” 

Treasure Knight straightened intimidatingly in his chair at these words, and with this movement, drew his other hand above the table. For the first time, Plague Knight noticed that he wasn’t wearing two gloves; his left arm was encased in what appeared to be a small canon, all the way up to the elbow.  
Tinker Knight snickered.

“Ha! I see what you’re saying! Guess that means I win!”

“Thrnk whrrt yrr lrrk, Trnkrrr. Rh knrr thrr trrth,” muffled Treasure Knight, having dropped his helmet.

Plague Knight cackled, “I don’t care about your silly squabble! Metals mean nothing to me! Steel can be melted, gold dissolved… and alchemy triumphs! Heeheehee!”

There was a loud thud from the end of the table. Plague Knight glanced over to see the behemoth, Polar Knight, scowling down at him, having just slammed his tankard of beer onto the table.

“Something the matter, beardy?” called Plague Knight, impishly. 

“Hmph.”

“Heehee! You can talk, can’t you? I seem to remember you uttering something vaguely resembling language, once… Or was I mistaken?”

“Talk. That’s all you ever do. You’re all talk… and nothing to back it up with.” 

Plague Knight blinked in surprise. This was the most he’d ever heard the mountainous Knight ever speak. And such words, too; absolutely dripping with bitter contempt. 

“Weehee! How cold! I can see where you get your title, haha!”

“Do not antagonize him, alchemist,” hissed Spectre Knight from down the table, “The Enchantress will be most displeased to find Her loyal scientist crushed to powder because he could not contain his foolishness.”

Plague Knight snickered harshly, turning to him, “Hee! Are you calling me brittle? Heeheehaha! That’s rich, coming from a bag of bones!”

Spectre Knight merely looked away, uninterested in engaging him any further. Plague Knight was about to test the integrity of Spectre Knight’s bone structure -explosively- when he heard a soft thud from the far end of the table. 

Plague Knight scoffed and folded his arms, “Hee, well! I’ll leave you all to your petty squabbles. Tata!”

And with that, he scuttled back to his seat. Just as expected, King Knight had passed out, slumped over the table, snoring peacefully. Plague Knight’s sleeping draught had done the trick! Now to enter stage two of his little plan.

“Tuckered himself out being churlish, I’ll wager?” asked Plague Knight innocently as he sat down next to Mole Knight.

“Too much juice,” said Mole Knight, “What’s going on over there?”

“Hee! Just a silly argument over metals. They wanted me to settle the score.”

“Metals, huh? Why didn’t they ask my opinion? I mine the stuff every day..!”

Mole Knight lumbered out of his seat to put his two cents in for the argument, and Plague Knight made a little show of dropping his fork.

“Oops! Heehee! Clumsy me,” he said, loudly.

Propeller Knight didn’t take any notice, too busy attempting to draw the ever-aloof Spectre Knight into a conversation to listen.  
With everyone else distracted, Plague Knight ducked under the table and crept across the floor on all fours. He approached King Knight and carefully unfastened the greave, poleyn and sabaton from his leg. Then he hid them behind his back and crawled out from underneath the table.

“Hee! Just off to the restroom..!” he called to dispel any suspicion, before scuttling off into the sable halls of the Tower.

His sleeping draught had been brewed to last approximately a half hour, so Plague Knight had plenty of time to find a good spot to set up phase three of his plan. He eventually plopped down in a deserted hallway and chalked out an alchemical circle on the ground. He placed the pieces of leg armour in the centre and began preparing them for projection. 

Some time later, just as planned, Plague Knight heard a set of uneven footsteps tramping down the hall. He glanced up to see King Knight round the corner, his long ermine-trimmed cape flopping heavily behind him. 

“You!” he cried, furiously, as he caught sight of Plague Knight sitting comfortably in the middle of the corridor, “You blackguard! What have you done with my greave?!”

“Hee! It’s right here, your majesty,” said Plague Knight, pointing to the middle of the alchemical circle, “I’m just borrowing it for a little… experiment!”

“Experiment?! How dare you! You’ve gotten it all dirty! Give it back, you filthy thief!”

“Hee, I think not!”

Before King Knight could ruin his circle, he dropped a match into the middle of it, setting the primed armour alight. King Knight screamed and rushed forwards, but his initial terror was nothing compared to the wail of horror he let out as the powders burned away, revealing Plague Knight’s little trick. King Knight’s gleaming greave, perfect poleyn and sparkling sabaton were now three ornately shaped lumps of lead.  
King Knight cradled them like a child in his arms, whimpering. His whines became a growl of anger, then he tossed the leaden armour to the ground and leapt to his feet.

“Change them back!” he roared, “AT ONCE!”

“Hee! Maybe later- I’m tired!” said Plague Knight, feigning a yawn.

“Change them back, you grimy little peasant… or I shall EXECUTE YOU.” King Knight fairly screeched. 

“Weeheehee! I’d like to see you try!” cried Plague Knight, leaping up. So far, so good. But it could stand to be better. “I’ll bet you can’t even hit me!”

“HA!” King Knight struck a regal pose, brandishing his heavy sceptre, “I wouldn’t normally deign to scrap with someone so base as you, but you’ve made this personal!”

King Knight tossed his cape behind him, simultaneously drawing a scroll from its crimson folds. He tossed it into the air, where it hung and unravelled. Moments later, the halls were filled with a trumpeting fanfare, followed the grandeur of an entire orchestra. A noble battalion of violins sang overtop the rich bellow of a troop of brass, surmounted by the high, soaring voices of woodwinds and interspersed with the tremendous thunder of timpani and snares.  
Plague Knight had heard of this showy technique, which was apparently quite popular in The Valley. People would commission a specific upbeat tune to be played as they rode into battle. The grand and often tumultuous pieces were designed to intimidate and discombobulate the enemy, forcing them to act in the rhythm of the music or else become disoriented by the deafening instrumentation.  
King Knight’s theme was certainly meant not only to terrify the enemy, but to glorify himself, such was its style and grandeur.  
Plague Knight, however, would not be cowed by this decadent dandy. 

King Knight came at him like a cannon ball, one shoulder jutting out in front of him like a battering ram. Plague Knight bomb bursted over his head, thankful for the dramatically high ceiling of the corridor. Skidding across the floor, he tossed a trio of Black Powder bombs to knock the maddening monarch off his feet. King Knight was buffeted by their explosions, but his cape wasn’t only for show; the heavy crimson fabric acted as a shield, protecting the Knight from much of the damage.  
Plague Knight cursed, though he realized that this was not necessarily a bad thing, if his calculations were correct.

King Knight turned, laughing uproariously, “You think your little firecrackers can hurt me, you blast-happy boor?! Take this!”

With a mighty leap, King Knight thrust his whole weight into the ground, causing a violent tremor. The resulting shockwave caused Plague Knight to crumple to his knees, clutching his staff for balance. King Knight rushed at him, sceptre drawn. Plague Knight tried to dodge, but forgot his increased size and merely ducked slightly. This allowed King Knight to deal him a crushing blow to the face.  
The hit sent him flying down the hall, rolling over and over until he finally came to a stop on his side. He panicked as pain seared the side of his head. Had his mask cracked?! He felt the surface but found, to his relief, that there was merely a dint in the polymer. He was still in great pain, however, and King Knight was already coming after him, aiming to strike him again.  
Plague Knight rolled over and hopped to his feet, tossing another trio of explosives towards the oncoming Knight. They detonated right on time, just beneath his feet, sending him high into the air. Plague Knight used the opportunity to leap after him. He raised his staff and swung it as hard as he could against the back of King Knight’s knuckles. The Knight gave a cry and reflexively opened his hand, allowing his sceptre to fall through the air. Plague Knight kicked off of King Knight’s body and grabbed the sceptre before touching down.

The sceptre was quite heavy, and a little hard to carry, but Plague Knight had it, and that was all that mattered.

“Heeheehahaha!!!” he cackled, evilly, dancing back and waving the gilded wand like a trophy, “Mine now! Think I’ll turn this one into copper!”

“FIEND!” howled King Knight as he hit the ground and struggled to stand up. 

Plague Knight took these precious moments to think very carefully about his next move. He knew what he wanted to do, but he’d have to be very quick, and he would have to keep his taller stature in mind.  
King Knight was already coming at him with a fury that only a spoiled, overconfident fop like himself could bear. 

Plague Knight held his ground, holding the sceptre like a club. Just moments before King Knight met him, he dropped to the floor and spun across it, dragging the sceptre in an arc to smash directly into King Knight’s unprotected shin.  
King Knight gave up a howl of pain and fell headfirst to the ground. Plague Knight righted himself heavily and leapt onto the fallen sovereign. 

“Heehee! Nighty-knight!” he shouted, before slamming the sceptre as hard as he could into King Knight’s helmet. 

This, it seemed, did the trick. With a loud CLANG, King Knight crumpled under him, and Plague Knight was able to roll off of him, panting.  
He had no time to rest, however. Stage four was the most important and dangerous part of his plan, and he doubted he would get another chance to test it.  
Wheezing heavily, Plague Knight scrambled to his feet and took a quick whiff of Sweet Vitriol. Then he began to chalk an alchemical circle around the fallen Knight, his fingers trembling slightly. At the points, he placed heaps of sulphur and droplets of mercury, which gave off a strong smell, as well as several other components. Once this was finished, Plague Knight raised his staff high in the air and concentrated every fibre of his being on performing a summoning spell. It was dangerous to perform alchemy and magic at the same time, but he needed as much power as he could possible muster.

The circle glowed brightly, its illumination bouncing brilliantly off of King Knight’s gleaming armour and sending strange reflections glancing off the walls. Plague Knight felt a physical force tugging at him, but he resisted it, pulling and pulling with his summoning spell. As he watched, a bluish light began to gather at the centre of the heap of armour. It shivered and undulated, before breaking away from the body and floating into the air. Plague Knight watched its progress, his mask lit eerily with its glow, a joyful burble of laughter building in his throat.

Something reddish-yellow was gathering in its centre, trying to manifest.

“Yes… yes..! The Essence of Confidence..! It’s MINE! HEE HEE HEE!!!” shrieked Plague Knight triumphantly. 

Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor behind him. Plague Knight turned to see who it was, then cursed as the shuddering light in the air wobbled, flickered, then fizzled out and died. 

“YOU FOOL!” screeched Plague Knight, too infuriated by the interruption to practice any caution.

It was Polar Knight who rounded the corner this time. He took one look at the scene before him, then dove at Plague Knight. Before the alchemist could dodge, the enormous Knight’s snow-shovel slid grindingly across the stone floor, throwing up sparks, and scooped him up in the blade. Plague Knight felt himself being lifted off the ground, before the shovel bucked and flung him down the corridor. He hit the ground hard and rolled once again, his breath snatched from his lungs.  
Plague Knight could hardly catch it, however, as Polar Knight was already upon him, pinning him to the ground with his weapon.

Plague Knight gasped desperately for breath, spots dancing in front of his eyes. He’d expected to be screamed at or at least accused, but the huge man was simply silent as he kept him pinned to the ground.

“Polar? What’s–“

Plague Knight heard a loud sort of thup-thup-thup noise and saw another figure appear behind Polar Knight. 

“Mes dieux! What is going on here?!”

Plague Knight realized the odd sound was Propeller Knight’s helmet, which was holding him aloft. Well, that answered his question about that. 

“Hmph. See for yourself,” rumbled Polar Knight.

The mountainous Knight finally removed his shovel, allowing Plague Knight to gasp for air. Propeller Knight looked down at him, shaking his head.

“Ah, piaf… what have you done?”

Plague Knight wheezed stertorously, swallowing as much oxygen as his lungs could hold.

“Just… hhhh… protecting… myself…” he gasped, “He… hhh… started it..!”

It was technically true. He had pranked King Knight with the intention of drawing him into a fight; he’d hypothesized that weakening an enemy would help loosen their Essence. But King Knight had been the one to consciously begin the battle. Technically… he was only defending himself.

“I doubt that, mon ami,” said Propeller Knight disapprovingly, “King Knight hates to dirty himself in battle… and, now that I think about it, he did fall asleep quite suddenly at the table. One of your little potions, eh, piaf?”

Plague Knight scowled under his mask. Damn. He was cleverer than he seemed.

“Hee… haha… alright… it was just a little joke that went wrong,” he wheezed, “And I’ve paid dearly for it… Don’t get your trousers in a twist over him, heehee… he’ll be fine…”

In fact, there was a groan just then, and King Knight began to climb to his feet, listing from side to side. Plague Knight scrambled jerkily onto his knees as well, in case another skirmish was about to take place.  
As soon as King Knight caught sight of the alchemist, he lurched forwards.

“You ruffian!!!” he shouted, “Look what you’ve done!! First you destroyed my greave, then you sullied my cape! Now–“

He felt at his helmet and squealed, “You’ve dented my luxurious lid!!! Fix it! FIX IT NOW!!!”

“Hee! Make me!” crowed Plague Knight, unable to help himself.

King Knight nearly leap at him, but was halted in his tracks by the blade of Polar Knight’s Shovel, which came down between them with a loud CLANG. Plague Knight laughed and made a variety of rude hand gestures at the golden Knight before doubling up from a swift kick to the gut.

“Do what he says, wizard,” rumbled Polar Knight, ominously.

Plague Knight clutched his bruised ribs and staggered, “H…Hee..! Why should I..?”

“NOW.”

“Go on, petit, put his armour back in order,” added Propeller Knight, “We do not want to cause any rift in our organization, do we..?”

Plague Knight narrowed his eyes under his mask. He wanted to tear the whole thing to pieces, personally, but he supposed cluing them in to that would be far from advantageous. He sighed and did his best to pretend he was sorry.

“Hee..! It was just a harmless little prank, anyway! Look, I can fix it with a flick of my wrist..!”

Polar Knight moved his shovel, allowing Plague Knight to pass, and he went to collect the poleyn, greave and sabaton from the ground. King Knight eyed him suspiciously the entire time, flinching and making little grasping motions with every jolt and fumble. Plague Knight traced a circle around the pieces of armour and began performing another projection, this time to return them to their original golden splendour.  
King Knight continued to watch anxiously, running his fingers over the dent in his helmet. 

When Plague Knight was finished, he unsealed the circle and backed off to allow King Knight to rush forward and claim his beloved baubles. The ridiculous royal scrambled to buckle the pieces back over his handsomely stockinged calf, anxiously scrubbing errant bits of powder off with his cape. He stood up, adjusting his armour, and sniffed.

“Hmph! The next time you do that, I won’t be so lenient!” he cried. 

Plague Knight choked back a titter and swallowed a sarcastic comment. Best to leave it as it was, for now. But he’d be back as soon as he was ready to collect his and the others’ Essences. And when the time came, the measure of leniency offered would be of no consequence. He’d been so close… he wouldn’t fail next time.

“Hold back on these prank, eh?” said Propeller Knight, setting his helmet in motion again and rising into the air, “It would be a shame if you incur the wrath of someone a little more… adroit.”

As he spoke, he gently laid a hand on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his hip. Plague Knight rolled his eyes at the implied threat. As if Propeller Knight was any more of a danger than King Knight. More mobile, perhaps, but no more frightening.  
Polar Knight merely grunted and stumped off, swinging his shovel back over his shoulder and sliding it into its grip.

Plague Knight gingerly felt his ribs to make sure they weren’t broken, then brushed down his robes. Time to get his findings back to the Potionarium.

\- - - 

“Oh, hi Plague Knight..!”

Mona stood up from her desk to greet him as he hopped down the crumbling walls and skipped towards her. Despite his injuries and badly swollen face, he felt quite lively. 

“Mona! Shall we head down? I’ve got some good news, heehee!”

“Alright…”

Mona revealed the usual entrance to the underground lab, and the pair descended. Once they were down in the labs, Plague Knight rushed to the Dynamo Decanter. It was so big he could barely see into the main containment chamber.

“Hee! Is it ready?”

“Yep. Fully finished,” he could hear a note of pride tremble in her voice, “But I don’t know how we’re going to test it… I’ve been using it to distill a bit of my own magic, but…”

Plague Knight giggled gleefully and scuttled back to his partner, “Hee! Forget about all that! You can test the real deal right now!”

Mona stared, “W… what? You mean, you..?”

“Heehee! I promised, didn’t I?”

Mona’s face lit up with one of her eerie rictus grins, “Oh, Plaguey! You genius! I was expecting this to take way longer– Now we can really get on with the preparations!”

Plague Knight basked shyly in the warm glow of his partner’s joy. If she was this thrilled about a little accomplishment like that, imagine what attaining the Serum Supernus might lead to..? Plague Knight quickly forced himself not to imagine this, so that he could focus on explaining his discovery properly. 

“So how does it work?” asked Mona, eagerly, jolting Plague Knight out of his daydreams, “How do you harvest an Essence?”

“Well,” said Plague Knight, “I can teach you how, right this minute, heehee! We can use mine!”

Mona blinked, “Your Essence?”

“Yes! I think it ought to do. It won’t hurt me,” he tapped his fingers together a little, “Erm, well, mostly… Hee…”

Mona’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean, ‘mostly’?”

“Heh, well, you see,” Plague Knight tried to organize his formula into words, “To obtain an Essence, you must first provoke the person’s chiefest trait, so that it comes to the surface. Then you must use a modified alchemical circle as well as a summoning spell to remove a portion of the Essence from the body so that it coalesces outside of it. It’s all very delicate and fiddly, but if done right, it does work..!”

As he’d proven just hours ago. 

“What’s the catch?” Mona asked, suspiciously.

Plague Knight giggled guiltily, “Well… Well, heh, you have to encourage the Essence a little bit…”

“…Ahuh..?”

“…By soundly beating the donor.”

Mona’s face crumpled into a scowl, “Plague Knight, I’m not going to beat you.”

“But Mona! Hee! I’m the best candidate! I can push my Essence to the surface without having to be provoked, and all you have to do is…”

“I’m not going to beat you,” Mona repeated, stubbornly, folding her arms and turning away, “Absolutely not.”

“I can take it!”

“Can you?”

“Yes!” Plague Knight felt a little heated all of the sudden, “I-I’m not a child, Mona! And I’m not a weakling! Hee! I can take just as much punishment as any other Knight!”

“This isn’t about your pride,” Mona retorted, “or your endurance. It’s about me not… It’s about… I don’t…”

She was shaking slightly, her face screwed up into a mess of blue lines. Plague Knight’s annoyance shrank, replaced with concern.

“Wh… what? You don’t what?”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” she cried, and a crackle of blueish flame licked up her arms. 

Plague Knight flinched. He didn’t understand why she was so worked up about this; he’d been beaten down again and again by hundreds of others, and he’d survived every time. He’d even fought a fellow Order member just hours ago, and despite the pain in his face, he felt perfectly fine. His little body was forever being bent out of shape, but it never broke. Not for long. What did it matter if she was the one who did it this time? He’d rather it be her than anyone else. Did she think he couldn’t handle it? Did she think he wasn’t strong enough..?

“Look, there’s got to be another way,” said Mona, jolting him out of his thoughts. She’d calmed down considerably and was frowning deeply, “To… ‘coax’ the Essence out of you.”

Plague Knight sighed sulkily, “Well, I suppose so. Maybe.”

“If you’re willing to give it, maybe it’ll come out easier,” she continued, approaching him.

He took an involuntary step back as she came to stand beside him, “Show me the circle.”

Plague Knight paused, before tracing the required ring around himself, showing Mona the way the marks lined up just-so. After placing down the mercury, sulphur, and other ingredients, Plague Knight stood primly in the centre of the circle.

“Heh, honestly, a good, sharp whack on the head ought to–“

“No,” rumbled Mona, seriously. 

She stared at him for a few moments, the gears almost audibly turning in her head. Then she came to stand just on the edge of the circle.

“…Alright. Your Essence. Do whatever it is you need to do to get it to… you know.”

Plague Knight nodded, feeling a little self conscious. He did his best to feel uniquely himself, though it was a little difficult under Mona’s intense green stare. Even more so as she leaned as far over the circle as she could and stretched out an arm to him. He resisted flinching back, letting the palm of her hand approach his beak.  
There was a long, awkward silence as Mona concentrated. Plague Knight did his best to keep his Essence to the forefront, though it felt as if he were trying to hold onto water. He was so engrossed in clinging to his selfness that he didn’t notice the wisps of pale blue light and the uncanny hum in the air until there was a glowing ball forming between his beak and Mona’s hand.

“O-oh! HEE HEE! Mona! You were right!” he cried, and the blue ball grew brighter as his voice rose.

“Almost… got it…” Mona hissed, grasping her outstretched left arm with her right one, her fingers trembling and twitching.

All of the sudden, the blue shell fragmented and broke away in a brilliant flash of light. There, between them, hovering gently in midair, was a bright green sphere. It shivered and jittered slightly around the edges, throwing off sparks, and as they watched, it moved slowly through the air and alighted almost lovingly on Mona’s palm.

They stared at his for a few moments before Plague Knight cackled, which caused the orb to grow brighter.

“HEE!! There it is! A real, corporeal Essence! What’s it feel like?!”

Mona’s mouth was slightly open and she seemed to have stopped breathing. She reanimated suddenly, her face flushing and her composure slipping. She nearly fumbled with the etherial sphere.

“I-it’s– It’s… I-it’s unstable! I need to get it to the Decanter before…”

She gave up speaking and scrambled towards the intake valve of the Decanter. She summoned a lever and gave it a swift pull, causing the machine to hum to life. The glowing ball of energy drifted towards the opening and was suddenly sucked up into it with a sharp puff of smoke.  
It remained in the first, spherical tank for a few moments, reacting with the liquid inside. Green light poured out the porthole in the contraption, and flames belched out the exhaust pipe. From there it moved on to the large glass container to be treated by those ever-so-tricky electrodes, then it travelled to the silo where its light could be seen passing through a grate in the side. The fire atop the silo exploded into violent tongues of flame at it approached, which licked up the alembic perched above, causing its contents to foam and seethe. Steam and heat shot out of the side with a sound like a tea kettle whistling as the energy travelled up into the pipes, followed their length, then poured out into the large cauldron at the far end of the machine. The liquid inside bubbled and frothed, changing colour in a brilliant flash of green, before draining away and being replaced.  
A few moments later, there was a splash, and Plague Knight’s Essence fell heavily into the large green-glassed containment tank. It sank, momentarily, then buoyed up and came to rest near the top, spinning and bobbing softly, completely stable. 

The two alchemists gaped at the whirling ball of light. Then both of them burst out laughing.

“It worked!” cried Mona, her voice higher and brighter than usual, “It really worked!! I did it!!!”

“HEE HEE HEE!!! The Serum is practically ours!” Plague Knight chimed in, leaping up and down, punching the air in triumph.

“Oh– But I’d better keep at eye on that,” said Mona suddenly, sobering up as she noticed several leaks and cracks in her machine. The process had worked, but the Essence’s power was nothing to sneeze at. It had certainly left its mark on the Dynamo Decanter. 

“But it’s nothing,” she said, quickly, shaking her head and waving her hand dismissively, “A little bolstering and we ought to be able to hold all nine together. Haha! I can’t believe this..!” 

She did a little pirouette and went to look at the worst of the damage. Plague Knight caught his breath and watched her go, beaming. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, and all he wanted to do was run after her and… and… and what? He didn’t know, exactly, but he knew it involved some kind of contact. He felt as if he could breeze away, fast as lightning, lift into the air like a bird and fly…  
But he fell back down to earth as he remembered Mona’s refusal to attack him. He couldn’t rush after her and do… whatever it was he wanted to do, yet. He still wasn’t good enough. He still wasn’t strong enough to catch up to her…  
But, with a little flutter in his pounding heart, he realized he was so much closer to his goal. With the Essences under control, the Serum Supernus could be his… And then, maybe, just maybe, she…

“Hey, Plague Knight, can you hold this steady for me?”

Plague Knight flinched and glanced up to see Mona holding a sheet of metal to one of the cracks in her machine, a welding torch and several iron screws tucked under her arm. 

“Heh, coming!” he called, skipping to her side. 

 

\- - -

 

Back at the Explodatorium, Plague Knight was in high spirits. The Essence extraction had been a success, and Mona’s Decanter seemed fully capable of containing the energy. Plague Knight suspected, however, that her more pacifist method of removal would not work on the Essences they would need.  
He’d found, to his delight, that the exact qualities he would need for the brew were all neatly bound up in his fellow Order members, practically served up on a silver platter. King Knight harboured the Essence of Confidence, Spectre Knight’s entire being oozed Bitterness, Mole Knight was certainly very Ambitious, and Treasure Knight couldn’t possibly be anything other than Avaricious. As for Cleverness, Plague Knight had to admit that Tinker Knight embodied the concept quite well, and Strength was all Polar Knight seemed to care about. And, loathe though he was to admit it, Propeller Knight’s Charisma was the stuff of… local legends.  
The only two that were missing were the Essence of Bravery and the Eldritch Power. Bravery, Plague Knight was not worried about. There were plenty of fine young knights or courageous adventurers who were probably despicably pure enough to epitomize the trait, and considering Plague Knight’s status as a reviled member of an evil cabal, he was sure he would meet plenty before too long.  
No, it was the the final Essence that worried him the most. It wasn’t referred to as an Essence in the text, yet the recipe did call for nine, and it was the only other ingredient mentioned in that section. 

‘For now at the eleventh hour  
you must instil great Eldritch Power’

Plague Knight was not fully sure of what Eldritch Power was, exactly. He supposed it could be the type of ensorcellment that existed inside very old, cursed objects, or enchanted locations. But its ties to the Essences made it seem like it must come from a being. Could it then simply be magic? But that seemed too easy…  
If it was magic, however, it might just be gift wrapped along with the other Essences, in the form of the Enchantress. Her power was tremendous, and mysterious, and might just fit the bill of Eldritch. Plague Knight hoped this was the case. That way, he could obtain it along with all the others in one fell swoop. 

It was almost too good to be true. It was as if the universe wanted him to succeed in brewing the Serum and rise to power. Though, based on his experiences with what the universe wanted with him, this surely could not be the case. More likely, the universe was placing everything tantalizingly within his reach, and secretly planning to snatch it away at the last, glorious second, crushing his soul once and for all.  
Well, more fool the universe, thought Plague Knight, fiendishly. If it thought it could stop him from realizing his dreams, it didn’t know him at all. 

He was just giggling to himself over his questionable enmity with the very concept of fate itself, when he was approached by a slightly out of breath minion.

“Boss,” they called, waving to him, “Boss, there’s someone here to see you!”

“Hee! One of the Enchantress’s goons?”

“Uh, maybe? He’s a knight, I’m pretty sure… He’s got a helmet, and a big feather hat..?”

Ah. The Bard had come at last. Plague Knight skipped cheerily down to the front hall where the musician was waiting. At the sight of him, the Bard swept off his plumed hat and bowed.

“Hail, Plague Knight, Patron of Poisons! Your commission is complete!”

Plague Knight scuttled over eagerly, quite intrigued about what he might sound like in musical form. 

“A pair of perfect pieces!” cried the Bard, triumphantly.

Plague Knight cocked his head in surprise, “Hee! A pair? But I didn’t ask for two!”

“Well… haha, it seems that whatever curious concoction you clobbered me with caused be to become abundantly creative! Aha… The first one is half price.”

Plague Knight raised an eyebrow, but did not argue, far more keen on listening than arguing.

“Well, go on! Let’s hear them, hee!”

The Bard slid his lute from its position on his back into his arms, tuned it carefully, and began to play. The lute was quite the marvel, and added to the Bard’s renown. It was a magical instrument that could produce a variety of sounds simultaneously. With a few finger plucks, the voice of a whole orchestra could issue from its humble sound hole.  
This was in fact what happened next, as the Bard struck up a haunting, driving tune. A relentless beat carried a spooky, mysterious melody that seemed to evoke a sense of constant, methodical movement. The entire piece brought to mind the workings of clandestine machinations. When the Bard finished, Plague Knight clapped appreciatively.

“Superb! Heehee! I suppose I can at least count on the idiotic Villagers for musical recommendations!”

“That was Flowers of Antimony, an ode to your odious edifice,” said the Bard, bowing grandly, “But this is, I believe, what you had in mind when you first approached me.”

Plague Knight leaned forward eagerly as the Bard set to tuning his lute again. After a small silence, the Bard began to play.  
To Plague Knight’s surprise, the sound that met his ears was that of a string quartet. The piece began with a foreboding sigh of melancholy violins, followed sharply by a dangerous hail of staccato. But Plague Knight was completely unprepared for what came next.  
The quartet went ballistic. The violins screamed to life, chasing each other around the course of their melody in a fierce rivalry of swooping wails and explosive stutters. Above them, the viola kept a screeching pace in eerie harmony, while the cello droned ominously below. The frantic, scrambling beat was punctuated every now and then by the tremendous crash of symbols, so loud they almost became visual. It was a deafening, discordant storm of glee and anguish and righteous fury. It was him.

Plague Knight was struck dumb for the entirety of the performance. He couldn’t have even spoken if he wanted to. He was completely lost in the overwhelming noise of his own being. When the Bard brought the music to its final, dizzying glissando, Plague Knight realized he’d neglected to keep breathing at some point. He sucked in a lungful of air as the comparative silence left in the wake of the song bore down upon him, and placed a hand over his chest where his heart was pounding against his ribs like a mad thing. 

“H… HEE! Wow! That was… heh… heeheeheehahaHA! Incredible!”

The Bard puffed out his chest, looking quite pleased, “Of course! I’d loathe myself if I delivered anything less! Now, for a small sum, I will bestow upon you the corresponding sheets!”

The ’small sum’ wasn’t really small at all, but Plague Knight payed gladly. He was more than satisfied with his commission, and bid farewell to the Bard with an enormous grin hidden behind his mask.


	17. A Wintry Paradise

On Plague Knight’s next visit to the Potionarium, he found Mona’s side room quite empty on his arrival. Her ‘Out to Lunch’ sign was propped at her desk, which gave Plague Knight pause as to whether she was actually on a break, or simply in the labs below.   
Stealing into the room, he listened at the wall to make sure no one was coming, then crouched and banged on the floorboards with his staff. This did not produce any results. No hole opened up for him to jump down, and Plague Knight wondered whether his knock could even be heard all the way down there. He supposed he’d just have to wait for her, wherever she was. After all, he couldn’t pull up the floorboards without her, and he couldn’t exit into the bar, either. He was trapped, for now.  
Plague Knight was just wondering whether he should try climbing back up the walls and into the secret passage again, when there was a soft chime. Plague Knight whirled around to see where it had come from, and suddenly, there was a sharp clatter of wood.  
Mona clambered frantically out of a hole in the floor, banishing her work clothes as she went. When she clapped eyes on Plague Knight in the middle of the room, caught unawares, she flinched.

“Wh– P-Plague?!”

“Mona, what’s–?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Mona had grabbed him bodily and whisked him away. The next thing he knew, he was in a dark, warm place, hearing the muffled sound of the secret entrance being smashed in. Mona’s bored, monotone voice followed, also muffled, and Plague Knight blinked, trying to get his bearings. He was curled into a tiny ball in velvety blackness, with two pillars pressed up against him on either side. He reached out and touched one, experimentally, and it twitched. He pressed his palms against it in confusion, trying to feel out what it was. It was thick near the top, but tapered as it went down. It felt like it was made of leather, or some such. At the bottom, it flattened out into a sort of…  
Plague Knight nearly had a small heart attack. The warmth, the darkness, the muffled voices, the ‘pillars’, and now, he realized, the smell… He’d been stashed unceremoniously under Mona’s skirts.  
Plague Knight let go of Mona’s boot panically and curled himself into an even smaller ball, doing his best not to touch her legs anymore. His heart was thundering in his chest and sweat was beading on his forehead. He was currently, as the expression went, between a rock and a hard place. He was mortified to be so close to Mona, and very worried about outing the two of them to her customer.  
As the sound of Mona’s game started up, Plague Knight felt that at least the visitor would be too distracted to notice any slight lumps in Mona’s skirt under her desk, but his self-consciousness remained.   
It felt like an eternity there, between her legs, as the game stretched on and on. By the end of it, Plague Knight’s body was cramped and overheated. It felt like a blessing when, finally, there was a faint snapping noise and Mona swung her legs over him, freeing him from his embarrassingly intimate prison. 

Mona’s face was bright blue as she peered down at him, brushing down her skirts.

“I-I…” she started, stutteringly, “I– G-gods, Plague Knight, I’m sorry. I panicked– But you– You shouldn’t have just been out there in the open!”

“Hee! I had nowhere to go! T-that was as good a hiding place as any!” he replied, trying to play off his bashfulness, fervently glad Mona couldn’t see the angry red flush on his face. 

“Just– Next time I’m not there, stay in the passage,” she said, hugging herself and turning away, “Don’t come down until I come up…”

Plague Knight’s heart sank. He suddenly realized that if it was uncomfortable for him, it must have been several times so for Mona. Having to practically sit on him for the duration must have been torture for her. A sudden, hot wave of shame bubbled up from the pit of his stomach, making him feel a little sick. After all, beneath the discomfort, he’d unconsciously been more than a little pleased to be so close to her. She could have hardly felt the same way. He felt almost… dirty.   
Disgusting. 

“I’m sorry…” he muttered, much quieter than usual.

Mona didn’t seem to hear him as she banished the floorboards and beckoned him down the rope ladder. He followed, sheepishly, and found that the lab below was a bit of a mess. The floor was taken up by six large holes, which had recently been installed, it seemed. The holes were occupied by tube-shaped wooden frameworks that utterly mystified the little alchemist.

“Heh… Hee! What’s all this?” he asked, trying to push away his guilty feelings.

“The newest advancement in transportation technology,” said Mona, proudly, seeming to have recovered from her own embarrassment, “Here, take a look.”

She walked over to her desk and showed Plague Knight a large blueprint. It depicted a tall, cylindrical contraption. The inclusion of corkscrew shapes and arrows drawn in circles gave the impression that there was a lot of spinning involved. Mona grinned one of her toothy grins, and Plague Knight glanced away, quickly.

“Say hello to the Torque Lifts,” said Mona, proudly, “…Or at least, say hello to their skeletons. We won’t have to climb down that rickety rope ladder anymore after I’ve finished these babies. Once they’re done, we can visit any floor of the Potionarium at will with a flick of the wrist! …Or ankle, rather.”

“Heh, h-how do they work?” asked Plague Knight.

Mona launched into an explanation of torque physics and rotation. As far as Plague Knight could tell, the Lifts acted like large, motor-propelled screws that could travel up and down by turning against grooves set into the floor. It was a very simple, yet effective design that didn’t require a bulky pulley system like most elevators. 

“And I’m going to bespell the activation lever,” she continued, “So that they can be called from anywhere, even the top floor, in an emergency.”

Plague Knight grinned under his mask. Ah, Mona. Always so full of good ideas.

“Heehee! How brilliant! You never cease to amaze me, Mona…” 

Mona glanced away, her hair hiding her face a little.

“…Do you want to help? I mean… Help me work on them? While you’re down here… I can give you updates on my research about the Serum as we go…”

“Heh, alright!”

Mona seemed very pleased at this, and she banished her topside gown, replacing it with her engineering gear. Plague Knight flinched at the sight of her stocking-clad legs and felt another wave of mortification. Just ignore them! Just ignore them…

 

“So, I’ve been researching those other ingredients,” Mona was saying as she soldered something inside her Lift.

It had been about an hour of work, and Mona had been dutifully giving a full report on her activities while he was away. She’d reinforced the Dynamo Decanter, and added several safety gauges to help her keep track of its wellbeing. She’d also been watching Plague Knight’s stored Essence very carefully, noting down any changes in its behaviour. So far, it was content to rest in the containment tank, perfectly docile. Mona had used the machine to process some of her own magic again, to see how the Essence would react to a neighbour. To her increasing pleasure, the two energies seemed to coexist peacefully. It was a good sign that they could distill all nine together without any hiccups along the way.

“…I’ve been focusing on the first one,” she continued, “The Bird of Many Hues. I think I figured out what it is. Hold this for me, will you?”

She handed Plague Knight her torch and stood up. She approached her desk, picked up a textbook, and brought it back to show her partner. She crouched down next to him and flipped through the pages to a bookmark, which showed a large, colour illustration of a fearsome looking bird.

“I think this might be it. The, um…” she paused a moment at the word inscribed at the head of the page, “…The bird of many hues.”

“I wouldn’t call it many-hued,” said Plague Knight, trying to decipher its name, privately, “It looks blue, to me.”

“Well, its feathers are blue,” said Mona, “But apparently its spit, or… vomit is rainbow-coloured.” 

“Yuck!” exclaimed Plague Knight, scowling at the picture, “Are you sure this is the right bird?”

“Heh, yuck indeed. But yes, I’m almost certain it is. All of the other stories of rainbow related birds don’t mention anything about magic tears… except for this one. Though most information is about its spew. Which, to be fair, has some pretty incredible properties itself…”

Mona pointed to a passage.

“The oral emissions of the…” here, Mona muttered the creatures name quietly enough so that Plague Knight couldn’t quite hear her trip over it, “…are peculiar in their ability to not only defy earthly bonds, but support vast quantities of weight. The… hrrmmmrmmrm… can spew a platform able to carry any burden. Said platform, termed ‘bilefröst’ in the ancient tongue, is ephemeral in nature, but intensely durable and reliable to those blessed to cross.”

“Heh, wow. Impressive,” said Plague Knight, glancing up at her slyly, “By the way, what was it called again? I think I tuned out at that point…” 

“Bilefröst,” replied Mona, tersely.

“Oh, no, I got that. I mean the name of the…”

“Anyway! That’s not what’s important,” said Mona, hastily, flipping to another page, “It says here that the bird cries tears that have incredible magical properties, but that it’s extremely difficult to get it to cry. To even gain an audience with it, you need to find its lair and chant a binding contract to force it to stay and engage with you.”

“Heh, oh dear. Does that put a snag in our plans?”

“No,” said Mona, smugly, “Because I’ve tracked one down.”

She snapped her fingers and conjured a map into her hands. Unrolling it, she pointed to the southeast.

“The Stranded Ship? Really?” asked Plague Knight in surprise.

“Yes! It’s not even that far away! And the lore book has the binding contract in it. We can head down there and collect the tears any time!”

“Hee! Excellent! But we’ll have to make sure to keep out of Polar Knight’s way…”

Mona frowned and nodded, “Hmm, you’re right. Actually, we’ll probably want to stay away from anything that could potentially rat us out to him, too.”

“Indeed… This mission will call for stealth! Transmutation potions, perhaps?”

Mona pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully, “For you, maybe… But something tells me I shouldn’t take one.”

“Why not? That spell isn’t on your jewel anymore, you should be fine, hee!”

“Yes, but… I’m a magic user. And a temperamental one at that. Wouldn’t an alchemical process have the same effect on me?”

Plague Knight paused, uncertainly. She might be right; he’d never seen the effects of alchemy on a living thing that produced magic. 

“Heh… well, then, perhaps a more conventional disguise is in order,” said Plague Knight, “I’ve met some of Polar’s underlings at the Tower. We can create a duplicate of one of their uniforms and you’ll blend right in!”

“Alright… That sounds suitable,” said Mona, contentedly, “What about you?”

“Hee! I’ll transmute into another one of his lackeys. I’ll pick up the required materials next time I’m at the Tower. In the meantime, how, exactly, does one obtain the tears of the… Rainbow Bird?”

Mona flipped through her tome, frowning, “It just says that once you’ve managed to get it to listen to you, you have to make it cry, and that it’s very hard to do so. I guess… we have to make it sad..?”

“Or happy, heehee! You can cry from laughter as well!”

“You would know,” chuckled Mona, taking back the torch he’d been holding onto for her.

As she did so, her fingertips brushed quite a bit over his knuckles, causing him to nearly drop the object in embarrassment. The action almost seemed deliberate, but that couldn’t possibly be true…   
Mona went back to tinkering with her Torque Lifts, occasionally asking Plague Knight to hand her this or that. 

“So… what are you going to do?”

Plague Knight glanced up from the lore book, from which he’d been trying to glean more information on the mysterious hurg… hels… Rainbow Bird.   
Mona had her entire torso thrust into the inner workings of the Torque Lift, with her rear end sticking up in the air. Plague Knight stared for a few moments blankly before quickly looking away and gulping self-consciously. 

“Uh, what? What am I g-going to do? Heehee– A-about what?” he asked, nervously.

“I mean, what are you going to do with the Serum Supernus, once you’ve got it?” replied Mona, hoisting herself out of her contraption and pushing up her goggles. 

There was grease and grime smudged on her face and her hair was a mess. She looked adorable. This did not help Plague Knight’s mental state at all. It took him a while to marshal his thoughts, and even then it was difficult to answer, since he simply couldn’t reveal his true plans for the Ultimate Potion. 

“Oh… ah… I… uuhhhh… heehee! Well, I… I’m going to flatten the Enchantress, of course! Heehee, yes! I’ll make her rue the day she came up with this Order scheme of hers!”

Mona snickered, “You promise me front row tickets when you do?”

“Of course,” said Plague Knight, “Anything. …I-I mean! Hee! Yes, well, of course! You are my partner, a-after all, and you’re working as hard on this as I am– er, e-even more hard! I mean, ever harder! So, it would only be right…”

Mona leaned against the edge of the Lift, propping her head up with one gloved hand, “Heh. I look forward to it. But…”

She peered at him intently with those bottle-green eyes. Plague Knight felt sweat beginning to form on his brow. 

“…It’s said to be able to fulfil all the drinker’s wildest dreams. I mean, I’m sure you have higher ambitions than revenge on the Enchantress. Heh, you can have whatever you want! I’m curious…”

Plague Knight felt like he was melting under her gaze. ‘You!!’ screamed his heart, ‘You! You!! You’re what I want! You’re ALL I want!!!’   
He swallowed the lump in his throat and desperately tried to think of something. Anything would do; any stupid lie or story…

“Heh… Hee hee ha ha… I-I ah… Gosh! W-with that kind of power, I… I could… hee… I could bake the world’s… l-largest cake!”

Plague Knight immediately felt like a colossal boob, and Mona’s snort of mirth didn’t make it any better.

“Really? I didn’t peg you for having a sweet tooth. The world’s largest cake, huh?”

“W-well, no, actually, I’m more of a fan of Lady Fingers– I-I mean greens– I MEAN, CAKE! YES! I LIKE CAKE!” 

Mona grimaced at his outburst, “Wow. I never knew you were such an enthusiastic gourmand.” 

“Hah– Heh– Er, Mona, h-h-how about you?” said Plague Knight, feeling as if he were clinging to the edge of a cliff with this final attempt at distracting her, “W-what would you like from the Serum Supernus?”

Mona looked a little taken aback at the question.

“Well… I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on drinking any.”

“O-oh… You weren’t? Why not?”

Mona turned back to her Lift, “Well, we’re only making enough for one person, and I don’t know if we could safely make twice the batch, or if it would even work with the dosage halved. Besides, I don’t think I can have any for the same reason I can’t take a transmutation potion…”

Plague Knight felt rather dismayed, “But… That doesn’t seem fair…”

He’d never really thought about Mona drinking the potion directly, yet he had always sort of assumed, in the back of his mind, that they’d share the fruits of their labour. Didn’t they always? They were supposed to be equal partners.

“Well, I don’t need to drink it to get what I want,” she said, surprising him, “You can have the whole thing, so long as I get credit for my work. When people find out I helped brew THE Serum Supernus and invented a device to distill raw Essences, it’ll blow my career through the roof!”

There was glee bubbling in Mona’s voice as she spoke, “I’ll be the best alchemist in the land, even the world! …Next to you, of course. And then, nobody… everyone… they’ll…”

She trailed off, her tone taking on that strangled quality that meant she was grappling with something. Plague Knight watched her, feeling a sort of burning softness inside him.

“Heh. They’ll put your name in print! You’ll go down in history!” he told her, firmly. He would make sure of it.

Mona glanced up at him, her lips pressed tightly together, though not in any expression of anger or upset. It was if she was trying to break out of a not-smile… but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Well, anyway… After I’m finished with this, we could bake a regular-sized cake to tide you over, if you want,” she teased, turning back to her Lift again with a small smirk.

Plague Knight reddened. He hoped this cake incident wasn’t headed the way of the bath. 

\- - -

A week and a half later, Plague Knight returned to the Potionarium with several sketches and a full vial of blood. He peeked down through the hole in the ceiling to make sure the room was empty. Mona was sitting at her desk as usual, scribbling away in her notebook.

“Yoohoo! Mona,” he sang, “I’ve got the supplies!”

Mona glanced up and grinned at him, “Great! Come on down.”

Plague Knight descended into the chamber and waited for Mona to banish the floorboards. Instead, Mona beckoned him over to her.

“Come here,” she said.

Plague Knight scuttled over to her curiously, wondering what she wanted from him.

“Uh, no… A little closer,” she muttered, shuffling a little, “You… have to stand right next to me.”

Plague Knight frowned at her and crept over cautiously.

“Hee… what are you up to, Mona?”

“Would it be alright if I put an arm around you?” she asked, ignoring his question, “It’ll be… safer that way.”

Plague Knight gulped, suddenly feeling rather reluctant for several reasons.

“I, er…”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Mona clarified, quickly, “But please hang onto my skirts.”

Plague Knight grabbed onto the end of Mona’s vest a little too frantically and fidgeted, unsure of where to look or how to stand. He had an idea of what she was doing, which was why he wasn’t trying to make excuses not to be so close to her. Not that he didn’t want to be close to her, but when he was, he was liable to start drowning in an ocean of his own perspiration, not to mention choking on his own tongue. He tried his best to avoid such situations, so as not to make her uncomfortable, and yet… they always seemed to find him, didn’t they? Like this one. 

Satisfied that he was clinging on tight enough, Mona snapped her fingers, and and long, polished wooden lever popped out of the ground. Mona grabbed the end and gave it a mighty yank, which caused a loud, mechanical rumbling. The floorboards slotted apart, dropping the pair onto a large wooden disk.   
Plague Knight was just about to let out one of his characteristic giggles, when the disk suddenly began turning at an alarming speed.

“Hee-HEEEEEEE!!!”

Plague Knight clung to Mona’s hips for dear life as the world began to spin. Air whooshed past him and Mona’s cape buffeted against him as they descended into the depths of the Potionarium in a dizzying corkscrew of doom.   
When the Torque Lift came to a stop with a bump, Plague Knight’s knees buckled and he clung even harder to his partner. The small part of his brain that wasn’t currently focused on the sudden feeling of nausea squirming up his esophagus was very glad he’d hugged her from the side. If he’d been clutching her from the front, his fingernails would probably be puncturing her–

“As you can see, it’s not… totally finished,” said Mona, “But it’s up and functional, and I just love the feel of it! I-I mean. It’s, um, it’s fun…”

Mona gently placed her hands on top of his and pulled them out of her skirts. She held them as Plague Knight swayed, whimpering.

“A-are you alright?” she asked.

“H… heehee…” he gurgled, thickly “I’m a… heehee… just a… little bit… -ulp- …dizzy…”

Mona kept him steady until he could stand on his own. Plague Knight was grateful for the support, and glanced up at her once he was certain he could stand up straight without vomiting. He pulled his hands out of hers, nervously, feeling rather shy about all the physical contact.   
Mona seemed momentarily taken aback at the action, but straightened up promptly and turned away to approach her desk.

“Um, so,” she mumbled, “You said you have those supplies?”

“Hee, yes!” replied Plague Knight, clambering back into his usual demeanour and scuttling after her, “A detailed reference of Polar Knight’s lankiest lackeys, and a vial of blood for my potion…”

“Alright, let’s see,” said Mona, taking Plague Knight’s papers.

She peered down at them, turning them over to view the various sketches. 

“Hm. I should be able to make this in a snap,” she said, confidently.

She hit a button on the side of her shelf, and the object rotated on its axis. The other side contained a sewing table, complete with rolls of cloth, pins, needles, thread, yarn and everything else a tailor could need. Mona conjured a large board, which she pinned a sheet of paper to, and began sketching out a pattern for her disguise.   
Plague Knight couldn’t help but smile. Just years ago, she’d been complaining that she didn’t know how to do a lick of practical work. Now, she was creating her own costume from scratch as if it were nothing. This was what he loved about Mona most of all; when she wanted something, she went and got it. No beating around the bush, no moaning; she simply hiked up her skirts and got down to work. It was a trait they shared, and one he admired greatly. With this attitude, there was nothing that could stop them from achieving their goals. 

While Mona fussed over her fabrics, Plague Knight moved to the other room and instructed his minions to fetch him supplies and ingredients for his coming concoction. Once they’d all complied, he ordered them into complete silence so he could work in peace and quiet. He needed to concentrate while brewing this potion, especially when it was so finicky. Transmutation potions were tricky on their own, but Plague Knight wanted to make sure his new body would retain the cold-resistant qualities of the original. 

They worked for several hours, pausing only to meet basic bodily needs. By the next day, both were satisfied with their products, and ready to strike out for the Stranded Ship.  
Plague Knight left instructions with Professor Langlog to transmute into his likeness and take his place should anyone come calling for him, and Mona entrusted the Potionarium to Percy before they left.  
Neither of the alchemists was particularly happy with the arrangements, but it was the best they could do. They were a little more focused on getting to the frozen south. Their quarry was in the third quarter of The Valley, which was very far away. Getting there on foot would take ages, and transportation would be little better. Instead, Mona and the Magicist worked together to form an alternate solution. 

“This is, um, a Star Map,” said the Magicist, gesturing to the floor, where she had drawn a very complicated interlocking grid of symbols. 

The markings resembled the contents of an alchemical circle, somewhat, but formed a square shape instead. 

“Here is where we are,” she said, pointing to the end of the map Plague Knight and Mona were standing next to, “And that’s where you want to go… good?”

She motioned to the other end. Plague Knight shrugged.

“Hee! I’ll take your word for it.”

“Star Maps are magical constructs that help with teleportation,” Mona explained, quickly, “You mark down the stars over a particular place that you want to go, and they can be used as a beacon to travel to. It’ll help me focus on my destination so that I don’t… you know.”

Plague Knight nodded, “What are all the other markings for, heh?”

“They’re the spell that makes the connection between this map and the actual stars,” replied Mona, “It’s actually pretty complicated. Um, thanks.”

She glanced up at the Magicist, then, who simply smiled dreamily back at them.

“Safe trip…”

Mona straightened up and squared her shoulders, staring out across the Star Map. Then she wrapped an arm around Plague Knight and took a few fluid, graceful steps onto the chalked markings. As she did so, there was a feeling of pressure and a burst of air. Suddenly, they were no longer in the cool depths of the Potionarium, but in the middle of a freezing snowdrift. Huge, tree-covered mountains surrounded them, their craggy blue peaks gnawing at the sky like colossal fangs. 

Mona gasped at the sudden change in temperature and let go of Plague Knight, who shivered against the cold. 

“Hee!” he cried, a stream of visible breath issuing from the end of his mask, “You did it! This is definitely the Stranded Ship, heehee!”

“Yeah,” said Mona, snapping her fingers and changing instantly into her costume.

Plague Knight had decided that she’d fit in best as the rather showy young people who called themselves ‘Rail Riders’. As far as he knew, they populated the slopes of the Stranded Ship, sliding up and down hills on their longbows, trying to see who could go the fastest. As fun as it sounded to him, it seemed a tad too frivolous for the likes of grumpy old Polar Knight. This, of course, worked to their advantage. The old grouch would most likely prefer to avoid these youngsters, and the hoods and masks sported by the thrill-seeking skiers would hide Mona’s features and keep her anonymous.   
Meanwhile, Plague Knight was quickly becoming a popsicle. Time to quaff his special brew.  
Mona watched him as he transformed.

“Amazing,” she breathed, as Plague Knight rounded out and sprouted bristles.

Moments later, he was one of the stout, bearded warriors that inhabited the snowy lands. Plague Knight let out a deeper, hoarser cackle than normal and stretched his beefy arms. 

“Weeheehee! Now this is more like it! I can’t feel the cold at all!”

“Let’s hope that’s the potion and not hypothermia setting in,” said Mona, wryly, “C’mon. We should get moving. We’ve got to find that Bird as soon as we can.”

“Yes! The Harbergarb!”

“That’s not what it’s called…” 

 

The trek across the Stranded Ship was not an easy one. Plague Knight was taller in his new form, but not by much, and his legs were quite stubby. He found himself keeping a good, if wearisome stride, but shuddered to think of the wear and tear it would wreak on his body when he changed back.  
Mona, meanwhile, had her incredibly long legs at her disposal. She stilted through the snow at a relentless pace, spurred on by her desire to find the Rainbow Bird.   
Eventually, the snowdrifts gave way to thick patches of ice and frozen boards. They were entering a piece of the ship proper, now. 

“Alright. This place has been described as labyrinthine, heehee,” said Plague Knight, planting his hands on his hips and appraising the road ahead, “So we may be at this for a while.”

Mona frowned, “What if we just… asked around?”

Plague Knight blinked, “…Do you think that will work?”

“It might?”

Well. It was as good a plan as any. Both alchemists kept their eyes out for other denizens of the frozen wreck around them. Plague Knight was a little clumsy on the ice, having to shuffle slowly to avoid falling over. Mona, on the other hand, skated across it as if she’d done so all her life. He couldn’t help but feel a little envious. Curse her natural grace! And how pretty it make her look!

“Hey, look at that!”

Plague Knight glanced up to where Mona was suddenly pointing. There, just above them, hanging in the air was an icy statue. It depicted what looked like a strange, crouching bird with two heads. Its gormless, glassy eyes stared off aimlessly, and its beaks gaped in tandem. 

“Is that supposed to be the Berblegerber?” asked Plague Knight, snickering, “Look at its face…s!”

“That’s not its name. And yeah… The lore book seems to indicate it has only one head,” said Mona, sounding thoughtful, “I wonder why there are two..?”

“Maybe it’s symbolic,” he offered, with a shrug.

His partner continued to stare at it. Then, suddenly, she jumped up and grabbed onto the edge as tightly as she could. The statue began to descend as she clung on, until her feet touched the ground with a soft bump. Mona pushed on it experimentally, and it rose and fell with her touch. Then she sat on it, which caused it to sink all the way to the ground.

“Weird,” she muttered, “What is this for..?”

Plague Knight approached it and climbed on as well. 

“Tuck in your legs,” he said, and Mona complied, frowning inquisitively.

Plague Knight grabbed onto the wings of the statue and pushed off the ground with his feet. Just as he’d hoped, the statue began to skim across the snow.

“Ooh, fun!” he exclaimed, “You try, Mona, you’re bigger!”

Mona snorted, but dutifully stood up, braced herself against the statue and pushed off. This time the statue moved much faster, gliding over the snow with a soft hush. 

“Wee! Faster!”

“We’re supposed to be on track,” said Mona, but she pushed off the ground again, anyway.

They were having so much fun that neither of them noticed an oncoming wall. The statue sped towards it and hit it with a loud thud. Immediately, the bird’s beak closest to Plague Knight spewed an ungodly amount of brightly coloured substance. It hit Plague Knight in the face, and what he had expected to be liquid turned out to be very solid and very painful.

“Gagh!”

“Plague Knight!”

Mona rushed to his side, as Plague Knight found his head trapped between a brightly coloured platform and an icy brick wall. Mona tried to break the colourful platform by pounding and prizing at it with her fingers, but it held firm.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes– I think so– Just a little stuck–“ Plague Knight gasped.

Luckily, the platform began to fade a moment later, and Plague Knight was freed from his peculiar prison.

“That was… very weird.” he said, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. It had just managed to hit the area right under the helmet that came with his disguise. Blast. He could feel a goose egg growing there, “Was that… that Bilefröst thing?”

“Possibly… But I doubt this statue is the Bird. Here,” Mona picked up a handful of snow and pressed it to the lump, but the snow quickly melted in her warm hands, “Oh… damnation!”

Plague Knight chuckled shyly and applied snow to the bruise himself, “I-it’s alright. I think we should get back on track now, heh…”

“You were the one who– …Oh, never mind.”

Unfortunately, their search was not very fruitful for some time. Every time they managed to spot someone who might be able to help them, they were either too far away or too busy to speak. Several men who resembled Plague Knight’s disguise had their hands full practicing spear-tossing, and every armour-clad shield-bearer they happened upon refused to speak to them at all.   
The pair had nearly given up on their plan to ask for directions, when they finally caught sight of a figure that seemed to be both idle and close enough for them to hail. This person was sporting a bronze helmet and hanging off a ladder that lead up to a higher part of the Ship. They were facing away, arms and legs hooked leisurely over the rungs to keep them in place.

“AHOY!” called Plague Knight, “YOU THERE!”

The figure flinched and nearly dropped the hammer they were carrying.

“Agh! Hey! You nearly scared me off my ladder!”

“Sorry,” called Mona, stepping in before Plague Knight could mock him, “We’re just a tad lost. We were hoping you might be able to help us.”

“Ah, thank goodness. I thought you guys’d caught me slacking. …Not that I was,” he craned his neck around farther to try and get a better look at them, “You’re lost, huh? Are you new?”

“Uh… Yes,” called Mona, “The, um… captain gave us a task, but we got a bit turned around…”

The figure on the ladder laughed, “Wow, you MUST be new! Officially, we’re supposed to call him The Stalwart! Don’t let him catch you saying anything else. Anyway… Where is it that you’re trying to go?”

Mona paused a moment, mulling over her words. 

“The, um, Stalwart told us to seek the… the, um, Mystical Bird of Many Hues so that he could–“

Mona was cut off by the figure’s laughter.

“Ugh. You rookies are always doing this… Don’t even bother…”

“W-what?”

“Look, you don’t need an excuse to go looking for that overgrown Rainbow Bridge, alright? Just make sure you hunt for it on your own time. The Stalwart’ll beat the hide off you if he finds out you’re goofing off. Anyway, they say it’s supposed to live in the pits. Just head down and you might get a lucky glimpse.”

Mona pursed her lips, “…Right. Thanks! We… won’t rat you out to The Stalwart.”

The figure snorted, “Like you’d have the cred to pin me, newbie…”

Mona rolled her eyes and headed for the nearest avenue that looked like it might lead downwards.  
It seemed she’d made a lucky guess, as they did indeed descend into deeper parts of the glacial wasteland. Brick and ice walls and pillars rose around them, some bearing statues of animals. Plague Knight stuck his tongue out at these, muttering about the superiority of his stone ravens. He then found he hated the feeling of beard on tongue and shut his mouth, quickly.

“Another ice patch,” called Mona, from ahead, “Do you want to hold onto me?”

“Heh, no, I’ll manage,” he called back, peering down at the smooth sheet of frozen water before him.

He slipped and slid across the surface, managing at least to keep on his feet. Mona glided along easily in front of him, swaying back and forth. They were nearly clear of the patch of ice when there was a long, low howl. Plague Knight swivelled reflexively, looking for the sound, and fell over.

“Ooph!”

Mona turned and skated to his side.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You heard that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m sure it’s not–“

The faint patter of paws faded into earshot and quickly increased in volume until a trio of dark-furred canines leapt over a nearby ridge and landed on the ice. They stood together, fur bristling, fangs bared.

“Why are they angry?” hissed Mona, “Can they smell us?”

“They can probably tell I’ve transmuted,” Plague Knight muttered, “Beasts have an uncanny knack for sensing it, somehow.”

“Then we’d better run.”

So saying, Mona grabbed the back of Plague Knight’s jacket, and pushed off across the ice. The wulves were, unfortunately, fairly competent at navigating the slippery surface, and gave speedy chase. Mona did her best to avoid them as she dragged Plague Knight behind her, eventually yanking him hard to the right and hitting stable ground. 

“This way,” she hissed.

Plague Knight simply followed her as she lead him towards what looked like a ledge. In the next few seconds, Mona tucked her hands under his arms and tossed him over it. Plague Knight shrieked as she did so, sailing through the air, limbs flailing madly. 

FLOOMF!

Plague Knight landed in a snowbank, sinking into the fluffy white coldness so far that he was completely submerged. A moment later, a heavy shape landed next to him. He scrambled out of the snow to find Mona sprawled nearby. The snow melted quickly on contact with her exposed skin, dampening her clothes.

“Brrr…” she sat up and glanced at the ledge across the icy chamber.

The wulves were hesitating at its edge, pawing the ground and whining. Eventually, they turned tail and disappeared back the way they’d come.

“Phew. I guess we lost them,” she muttered, “Why didn’t they want to come down here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re afraid of heights?” said Plague Knight, standing up and brushing down his clothing and beard.

As he did so, his foot collided with something hard and he yelped in pain.

“Ow! HEE! What was that?!”

He dug into the snow angrily, searching for whatever he’d stubbed his toe on. He soon uncovered a patch of black, which grew into a shiny round object as he brushed it off further. He was momentarily mystified by his discovery, until he found there was a long, ropey wick attached. A long, ropey wick that lit the moment its tip was exposed to the air.

“Mona…”

“Is that–“

“We gotta go!”

The pair leapt out of the drift and began sprinting in the opposite direction. 

“I’ll summon my cloak,” gasped Mona, as she ran, “I’ll cover you and– AAAAH!”

She let out a high-pitched shriek as the ground gave way beneath her and she plummeted into darkness. Plague Knight felt solidity crumble to emptiness beneath him as well and he followed right after her. Above them, there was a loud BOOM as the bomb went off, followed quickly by several other BOOMs. Had there been other bombs? Good lords. Plague Knight wondered if he could claim financial compensation for this obvious pilfering of his special schtick.   
This thought, however, was knocked clean out of his head when he hit the ground below. There was a loud OOPH! as he landed on something squishy and bounced ever so slightly. 

“Oh gods– Mona–!”

“Hhh..!”

Plague Knight scrambled off his partner, who was gasping for air. He’d avoided the worst of the fall damage by hitting Mona’s cushy body, but Mona had hit the freezing bricks below with full force. He quickly scrambled around her, checking for signs of injury. Incredibly, she’d managed to fling her arms up behind her head to prevent it from cracking against the ground, which at least meant that she probably wasn’t suffering a concussion. He checked, anyway, pushing up her skiing mask and cupping his hands around her eyes. The dim light made her pupils hard to make out, but she seemed to be alright.   
A loss of breath and a few bruises seemed to be the worst of it, thankfully. It took some time for her to sit up, but when she did, she appeared to be able to move well enough, and was fully lucid. This was quickly proven by the whimpered expletive she gave out.

“I’m in so much pain.”

“I’d pack snow on you to help the bruising, but there doesn’t seem to be any down here…”

“Yeah…”

Mona rubbed her arms and back, wincing. She snapped her fingers gingerly and conjured a potion into her hands, uncorking it and taking a swig of the contents.

“Mgh…”

She offered the bottle to Plague Knight, who took a sip. It was a temporary painkiller; the ache in his body ebbed as the liquid entered his system.  
Mona waved her hand and banished the bottle, then got shakily to her feet, looking around. Plague Knight followed her example. They seemed to be in a dark chamber with small glass lanterns hanging from the walls. These provided the only light. Behind them was a rough-hewn stone wall and a pit leading to dark water. In front of them, they could just barely make out what appeared to be the outline of a piece of the wrecked ship. 

“We’re close to the Ship proper,” Mona muttered.

“Seems so.”

“We should press on.”

Mona was just about to begin walking, when there was a faint whooshing sound and a breeze. She stopped dead in her tracks, shoulders drooping in exasperation.

“What now..?”

The whooshing became louder, suddenly, and a huge shape swooped out of the darkness. With a shriek, an enormous bird barrelled straight towards them, cruel yellow beak open to display its cavernous pink throat.

“The Blargh!” cried Plague Knight, recognizing its shape and icy blue feathers. 

Mona was already standing defiantly, stance firm, fists clenched. She shouted something in the Old Old language as the bird sped onwards, and Plague Knight prepared himself to tackle her out of the way if the spell went wrong.  
Luckily, the binding contract succeeded. Just feet from Mona, the bird slowed, huge wings beating against the air, and came to rest on the icy stone beneath them with a loud scraping of talons. It folded its immense wings and cocked its head to look down at them, shrewdly. A far more sapient look melted into its great orange eyes as the spell took affect. Plague Knight wondered if it was only intelligent when bound by the invocation..?

“You wish to speak with Me?” it asked, in a deep, hoarse voice, as cold as the ice surrounding it.

“Yes,” said Mona, firmly, “I bind you to sit an audience with us. You must obey until we are finished.”

“Hmph. I know the terms of the contract. Is it wisdom, you seek? Guidance? Or perhaps…” a resigned tone came into its booming voice, “…you are here for My fabled tears?”

“Yes. That last one,” said Mona without a trace of guilt.

“Get that one a lot, do you?” Plague Knight chimed in impishly. 

The Rainbow Bird turned its huge amber eye on him, “Constantly. But I doubt you will leave with what you seek.”

Mona folded her arms, “But we’re allowed to try.”

“Yes, yes,” grumbled the Bird, “But what makes you think you can succeed where so many others have failed?”

Mona simply gave the Bird a long, hard stare. It blinked and ruffled its feathers disdainfully, “Hmph. See that you don’t waste too much of My time.”

Plague Knight could almost hear Mona roll her eyes. She glanced down at Plague Knight.

“So. What should we start with?”

“Let’s try jokes, first! I’ve laughed myself to tears before!”

“Oh really? I can’t imagine it…”

Plague Knight did his best to recall all the best jokes he’d heard in his life. Every farce, jest or pun he’d overheard in bars or muttered between guards to keep up morale. They ranged from simple plays on words to embarrassingly bawdy stories -some even so crass they succeeded in making stony-faced Mona blush- yet, none of them did a thing to the Rainbow Bird.

“Blast,” he hissed under his breath, as his last gag fell flat.

He hadn’t even been able to cause a twitch in the Bird’s beak. Even worse, he’d just used up his whole arsenal of jokes in front of Mona in one fell swoop. So much for witty icebreakers… 

“Your sense of humour is trite, and quite frankly crude. Are we finished?”

“Not even close,” growled Mona, “Humour may be subjective, but suffering is universal.”

Mona began rattling off the most dismal statistics Plague Knight had ever heard. Casualties of war, victims of poverty and disease, numbers of children in orphanages. He wondered when she had learned all this.   
Mere numbers did not seem to move the Rainbow Bird, however. It shuffled slightly as she spoke, clearly disinterested, and eventually began to preen itself. Seeing this, Mona switched tactics, dredging up depressing stories to spark the Bird’s sympathy. After a while it seemed she was starting to make them up as the details became more and more outlandish.

“And then, just as it seemed the third Puppy might make it to his dying mother on the other side of the raging river, a Griffoth swooped down and snatched it up in its crushing claws,” she babbled, “His mother could only watch as her son was carried into the sky, surely to become a tasty morsel. Moments later, she succumbed to her wounds… just as the rescue party arrived.” 

She paused for effect, looking somber. The Rainbow Bird sighed.

“Is your voice not sore? Have you not prattled on enough?”

Mona seethed. She looked to Plague Knight helplessly, blue in the face with frustration. Plague Knight hesitated. They were losing, and they needed those Tears… 

“I-I think I have a story that might fit the bill…” he muttered.

“Sigh… Let’s hear it, then. The quicker this is over, the quicker I can be off to find lunch…” 

Plague Knight brushed down his jacket and composed his thoughts. How to go about it..?

“…Once upon a time,” he began, in the traditional way, “There was a nurse. He worked in a tiny, grimy hospital in a tiny, grimy village. There was one doctor and two other nurses, and a lot of patients. The doctor was always busy, and the nurses were all trying to help him and learn the basics of medicine at the same time.”

Mona blinked at him as he spoke. Was she surprised he had a sad story to tell? If so, she’d surely die of shock if she knew just how many were in his library. 

“One year, the village was affected by a dreadful pox. It swept through the population, taking whomsoever it pleased. The grimy little hospital filled up with grimy little patients. The doctor and his three nurses were so busy. The moaning and groaning was so loud, the doctor could barely give orders. The nurse -the one we are following- was tasked with changing the patients’ linens. He went about his duties long into the night, replacing the grimy sheets with ones slightly less so…”

Plague Knight stared into one of the glass lamps on the wall, ignoring the Rainbow Bird’s disdain. He watched the flickering light as he tried to figure out how best to phrase what came next.

“At the very end of the row of beds, there lay a young lady. Her long, silky hair cascaded over her brow, obscuring her face. The nurse heard her sigh as he laid a new blanket over her ailing body. 

‘Thank you, kind nurse, but I shan’t need this.’ said the lady. 

‘And why not? You’ll catch cold, and that will only make your illness worse.’ replied the nurse.

‘My illness cannot get worse. I am sure I will die.’

The nurse was surprised at this. The lady said it with such certainty that it was as if she had seen the future and knew it to be true.

‘Don’t be silly,’ said the nurse, ‘You are a strong young woman. Your body will overcome the disease, and you will return to your family.’

To the nurses’ surprise, the girl gave a soft laugh.

‘My strength does not matter… for there is no point in going back.’

‘Why ever not? Do they not miss you? Do you not miss them?’ cried the nurse.

The lady placed a hand over her brow and spoke with a soft, sad smile on her lips.

‘Even if I return home, no one will know me. Even if I walk again, no one will pass me. Even if I live, no one will have me… for who could love a face such as this?’ 

So saying, the lady drew her hand across her brow, pulling back the curtain of hair and revealing her marred and blighted visage. The pox had scarred it so terribly that she was barely recognizable.

‘It is better to die than to go on living like this…’”

The chamber suddenly became dead silent. Plague Knight couldn’t even hear the Rainbow Bird’s shuffling anymore. 

“The nurse… could say nothing to counter the young lady’s words. But he could not simply leave her. So he sat by her bedside and took her feeble hands in his. He remained there, even when sleep took him. When the morning came and he roused his aching body, he made to speak to the young lady, to tell her a new day had come… But her fingers were cold, and stiff.”

Plague Knight drummed his own fingers together softly. 

“The nurse bore her body himself to the pits and burnt it. It seemed to him best this way. They would remember her as she was before, her memory untarnished in their hearts.”

There was a long silence after Plague Knight finished. He glanced over to Mona, who, to his surprise, looked ashen and wide-eyed. Then they were both startled by a peal of derisive laughter.

“Ho! Good gracious!” the Rainbow Bird was suddenly puffed up, wings quaking, “That was the most treacly of them yet! You expect Me to cry over that melodramatic mess? You mortals…”

Plague Knight felt a violent blast of heat from beside him. He looked from the Bird to his partner, who’s ashen expression had suddenly become one of pure fury. Her eyes blazed with anger and her hair practically stood on end like an angry cat’s fur. With a sharp motion, she snapped her fingers and summoned her lever out of thin air. Then she leapt up as high as she could, and jabbed it straight into the Rainbow Bird’s left eye. 

“GUUAAAARRGH!!!”

The Rainbow Bird jerked back sharply, and a fountain of glittering tears gushed out of its injured oculars. Mona promptly conjured several flasks and did her best to catch as much of the falling lachrymal liquid as possible, banishing each container as it was filled. Plague Knight simply stared in mirthful wonder, though their triumph was a little short-lived.

The Rainbow Bird let out another screech of pain, though this one seemed far more bestial. Indeed, the sapient look in its eyes was quickly fading as it raised its head to stare daggers at the two alchemists.

“Looks like the contract is over,” said Mona.

Plague Knight didn’t have time to respond as the Rainbow Bird launched into the air. Making a split-second decision, he grabbed Mona’s arm and yanked her underneath the creature before it could swoop at them. The confusion caused by this move gave them enough of a head start to make a mad dash for the wreck of the Stranded Ship as the Rainbow Bird wheeled in the air, screaming.

“WEEHEEHEE!” cackled Plague Knight as they barrelled across rotting planks and leapt for a rickety ladder, “THE HERGUSBERGUS IS AFTER US!”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT IT’S CALLED!”

“WHAT IS IT CALLED, THEN?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!!!”

Wood splintered as the Rainbow Bird smashed into the Ship after them, its bulky form unable to navigate the cramped space properly. It sent a couple of stocky spearmen diving for cover as Plague Knight and Mona scrambled higher and higher.

“If we can just get a moment, I can teleport us out of here,” said Mona, panting as she vaulted through a broken wall and scrambled up the uneven side.

“Heh, I’m not sure if we can spare a moment,” replied Plague Knight as a crash below them sent wood chips spraying against their backsides.

When the pair finally escaped the ship, they emerged onto its icy deck and rushed towards the surrounding cliffs. The Ship was half frozen into the wasteland, allowing them to cross onto snowy tundra.

With a mighty roar, the Rainbow Bird broke out of the Ship, its talons raking the stone behind them.   
Plague Knight set his mind to the task of escaping, feverishly searching the landscape for something, anything… and then, as they made their way over the crest of a steep hill, he saw exactly what they needed.

“Hee! Mona, summon two of my bombs!”

“You’re not going to try and fight that horrible Bird, are you? As much as I’d love to see that, I don’t think conventional weapons will work on it..!”

A glowing, multicoloured projectile hit the ground between them, sending out burning sparks that hissed and sizzled as they made contact with the snow. 

“It’s not for the Bird,” Plague Knight shouted, “Quick! Quick!”

The next moment, he was holding a pair of Black Powder bombs, one in each hand. He tossed one ahead of him, then leapt into its explosion, soaring skyward. The other he tossed towards the floating statue he’d spotted nearby. The bomb hit the statue square in the beak and detonated, causing the crystalline figure to fracture. Rainbow liquid shot out of it violently as it began to fall through the air, and Plague Knight grabbed onto these fleeting perches, pulling himself closer to the statue until he was able to grab ahold of its shattered remains. 

The slab hit the ground just beside Mona and Plague Knight waved at her, “Jump on, hee!”

His transmutation potion was wearing off, now. He could feel his beard receding and his jacket melting back into his robes.  
Mona leapt onto the broken statue as it began to pick up speed, sliding across the ground with a combination of gravity and its own vestigial hovering ability. 

“Weehee! Now this is more like it,” cried Plague Knight as the gap between them and the Rainbow Bird widened. 

The Bird let out a furious shriek and spat more brightly-coloured projectiles, but Mona conjured her lever again and used it to steer the slab, pushing it back and forth as it sped down the hill to avoid the onslaught. 

“It’s relentless,” she growled, “We’ll never lose it!”

“Hee! But if we could just distract it..!”

“But how? With what?”

Perhaps it was the Rainbow Bird’s attacks, or the statue’s fluids, or even the incredible aurora borealis painting the sky above, but Plague Knight knew immediately.

“Heehee! The Dusk Bomb! We still have some, don’t we?”

Mona blinked, “I– Yeah, I saved some–!”

She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. Plague Knight found two more explosives in his hands. He smiled to himself at the memory of their conception, and the thought that they’d actually be getting some practical use. Then he chucked them as hard as he possibly could towards the oncoming monster.   
The bombs sailed through the air, twinkling ever so slightly in the light of an oncoming projectile. Unexpectedly, the two collided, causing a brilliant burst of light and technicolour smoke.

“Ooh!” Plague Knight twittered, watching the serendipitous little reaction take place with delighted awe. He could hear Mona making a similar noise next to him.

Just as he’d hoped, the explosion disoriented the Rainbow Bird. The glowing cloud of hues enveloped it, and he could see it thrashing around inside.

“HEE! How delightf––“

Their trajectory suddenly changed. Instead of heading downwards, the ground pulled up sharply into a ski-jump, and their little makeshift sled was flung skyward… straight over a sheer drop.   
The pair screamed as they fell through the air, arcing high over the chasm below. Plague Knight’s first instinct was to grab ahold of Mona and cling on as tightly as possible. It seemed she’d had the same idea, for the two were quickly tangled up in each others arms.   
Mona pressed him tightly against her, her face buried in his shoulder. She was warm– so warm there was steam billowing off of her, leaving a faint trail behind them. She was also quite soft. Plague Knight dug his fingers into the folds of her costume. He supposed that if he was going to die a horrible, impact-induced death at the bottom of a ravine, at least he was warm and comfortable in the arms of his beloved beforehand.   
But then he realized, to his horror, that that would of course mean Mona would die, too. He cast around frantically for some kind of solution, some kind of way out. This was such a stupid way to go and he wasn’t going to allow either of them to be subjected to it. Yet, even as his brain went into overdrive, it managed to pick up on the fact that their fall was… slowing..?

Plague Knight glanced around and sure enough, the scenery was no longer a blur of colours, and the wind was fading. Mona was still clutching him like a life preserver, burning with heat as they gently drifted through the air like a dust mote in the breeze.

“Heh– Heehee! Mona! A-are you doing this?” he squeaked.

Mona was silent for a few moments, before slowly raising her head. She gazed past him at the ledge behind them, then the chasm below, which caused her to clutch at him even tighter.

“H-how close are we to the other side?” she whispered.

“Uhm… Heh, we’ve still got a little ways to go.”

Mona pursed her lips and inhaled deeply. 

“O-okay. Stick out your legs,” she said.

“What?”

“I don’t want to move either but this might get us over the drop.”

Plague Knight gingerly complied, unhooking his legs from around Mona’s torso where they’d found themselves and sticking them out as far as they would go. Mona did the same next to him, until she was sort of standing in the air. 

“And… walk,” she directed.

The pair waved their legs in exaggerated, unnatural steps, which did actually seem to propel them through the air a little. Granted, it was a sluggish, windmilling, and extremely undignified pace, but despite their slowing descent, they were still descending. If they didn’t try to make it to the other side of the ravine, they’d drift straight to the bottom, which was filled with choppy water. Neither wanted to repeat the boat fiasco, and so they struggled, arm in arm, to waft their way to solid ground.

When they finally reached the deep snow at the far end of the gap, whatever was holding them in the air quickly fizzled out and the feeling of weightlessness quickly gave way to regular old gravity. Mona stumbled a little and leaned over to place Plague Knight back on the ground. He sunk into the snow and quickly scrambled away from the edge of the cliff, slogging through the cold white blanket as best he could. Mona followed at a slower, but less encumbered pace, looking pale and out of breath.

“Heh… heh… hee..! We did it! Safe and sound, weehee! That was incredible, Mona! I didn’t know you could f-fly!”

Plague Knight giggled to himself, partially out of habit, and partially due to relief and triumph at surviving yet another peril. Mona pulled the hood of her costume down and pushed the eye-mask up as well, sweeping a hand through her hair and sighing deeply.

“I can’t fly,” she mumbled, “I can float. Usually just a foot or so off the ground. Only done it a few times before. Glad I got it to work…”

“W-w-well, it’s a p-promising skill,” said Plague Knight, shivering slightly, “I h-h-hope you pursue it f-further, h-hee!”

Mona glanced down at him, her look of exhaustion changing to a frown.

“You’re shivering,” she observed, “You’re not dressed for this weather at all.”

“I’m f-f-fine, Mona,” he replied, “M-m-my b-body is just r-rejecting all this n-nasty s-snow! Heehee!”

Mona’s frown deepened, “You’re going to catch your death if we dawdle here. Come on. Have to find a clearer area so I can teleport properly. Here…”

She snapped her fingers and conjured her cape out of thin air, “Wrap yourself in this.”

Plague Knight fidgeted in the snow. It was past his knees and freezing his entire lower half into a popsicle, but, as usual, he hated to let Mona think he couldn’t handle it.   
He didn’t really have a choice, however, as Mona leaned over and draped the fabric around him. It was extremely long, and she did her best to wrap it like a layered shawl around his narrow shoulders. Plague Knight, for his part, did his best not to do anything creepy, like clutch it close and inhale deeply. He mostly succeeded. 

After a few minutes of trudging, the pair managed to find an area of lighter snowfall. The ground was clear enough for Mona to pull Plague Knight close once again and whirl them through the air, back to the Potionarium.   
They appeared on top of the Star Map, wobbling a little. The Magicist, who was standing a little ways away at a counter mixing potions, turned with delayed surprise at the sound of their return.

“Oh! Hello… You’re back..! Um, uh, did the trip go okay..?”

Plague Knight and Mona shared a look, before Plague Knight burst out laughing. Mona added a few little chuckles as well, which soon became a delighted cackle as she glanced into the main lab.  
Plague Knight followed her eyes, and there, sitting on top of her slightly messy desk, were several beakers full of bright, iridescent liquid.   
The outing had been a resounding success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! I know the updates have been a little slower lately, mainly because writing's been a little tricky. However, hopefully the amount of shiptease (does it count as shiptease if they're already canon..?) in this chapter will make up for it. ...Unless its too much. Anyway, thanks for your support and for still reading!   
> To answer a recent commenter's question, yes, we are in fact closing in on the end of the story, though there's still a good four to five chapters to go... See you next time! --T.S.


	18. Disturbing the Peace

As much as Plague Knight wanted to celebrate obtaining the Tears with his dear partner, he was quickly called back to the Explodatorium. In his absence, about a dozen things had gone wrong, as they always did.  
Several of the burner gauntlets had been damaged in a powder spill, a plethora of vats had exploded in a chain reaction, and one not-so-mysterious individual had been vandalizing lab property with the words ‘eric woz hear’.

“We’re sorry, boss!”

“We didn’t mean it to happen, boss!”

“It just kinda… got away from us, boss…”

Plague Knight promptly assigned them all time-outs in the dungeon, and stomped off to run damage control and harangue professor Langlog.

“You were supposed to be running the show while I was away, hee! I wasn’t even gone a week!”

“I can’t go running after every one of these addle-brained students! I’m eighty-one years old! These legs ain’t what they used to be!”

By the end of the day the little alchemist was exhausted. He practically collapsed onto his bed and struggled to kick the shoes off his feet with his toes. He rolled onto his back and spread his arms across the covers, staring up a the ceiling. The Explodatorium was an utter disaster. But he and Mona had managed to successfully obtain the Tears, so he supposed it was something of an equal tradeoff. Gods… what a depressing thought.

It took him a few moments to process the loud squeaking coming from beside his bed before realizing he hadn’t said hello to Bertram yet. He heaved himself up and dug into the feed bag, which, thankfully, contained some fresh broccoli. He would have thrown a fit if no one had remembered to feed his pet. After all, he’d expressly entrusted a select few minions with the knowledge of where his bedchambers were, as well as the means to enter. The idea was already vastly undesirable to him, but if it had turned out that he’d given them access to his room for free, he would have gone ballistic. He liked his privacy, and only something like keeping his little Bertram well-fed could move him to compromise it. 

“Heehee, sorry, Berty,” he cooed as he opened the cage and allowed the rat to scamper out into his hands, “I did miss you! I’m just so terribly tired, hee!”

He fed the animal a tree of broccoli and stroked his fur. Bertram was just about the only thing he’d missed from the Explodatorium, in fact. As time passed, the castle began to represent more and more negative memories for Plague Knight. It was the sight of countless disasters and humiliations, culminating in becoming his prison within the Order of No Quarter. He’d built the thing from the ground up and it was his greatest accomplishment, but the more he was forced to remain there, the more he wanted to fly from it.   
Or perhaps it wasn’t that he hated it– perhaps it was that he just preferred his other base of operations so much more. Every time he found himself back at the Explodatorium, he longed to return to the Potionarium instead. It was smaller, sure, and less impressive, but it was also more peaceful. The minions were better behaved, the atmosphere was cosy -or as cosy as a mad alchemist’s lab could get- and… well. It had Mona. There were times he missed her so strongly that he felt physically ill. 

‘Hee! No wonder I thought I was sick,’ he thought to himself as he watched Bertram scamper over his bedspread, sniffing about curiously. 

Mona affected his entire tria prima; body, mind and spirit. If he was separated from her for too long, he felt a great ache in his torso, as if his insides were being crushed by some unidentifiable force. Any time he was left alone with his thoughts, they would invariably lead back to her, again and again in an endless loop every night. And finally, her presence dictated the colour of his mood; her absence had it plummet, and her presence made it soar.   
It made him feel stupid and pathetic, longing so ardently for someone who saw him as a friend at most and a tolerable lab partner at worst. As much as he hated to be away from her, he had to at least try not to look desperate. If his feelings were revealed that way, there was no chance she’d ever return them, even if he had the Serum Supernus. He had to sort himself out. So he made a promise to himself that he would not return to the Potionarium until Mona expressly needed him there. He would stay in the Explodatorium and research the Serum’s remaining ingredients all by his lonesome, like he would have done before he met her. 

For the next few days, he cloistered himself away in his library, poring over his copy of the recipe and their shared notes. They had the Tears now, which meant that there were two other non-Essence ingredients to obtain. The Forest God’s Phlegmatic Praise and the Single Multitude’s Own Life. Plague Knight had little idea what either of these could be, but decided to start with the Life. A Forest God sounded far less esoteric than a Single Multitude -whatever that was. Since Mona was working on the same thing, it would be a better use of his time to work on the riddle that neither of them were likely to discover.  
Plague Knight scoured his collection of tomes for any mention of a ‘single multitude’s life’. Unfortunately, not one came up in any of his alchemical texts. It wasn’t even in The Complete Glossary of Alchemical Ingredients, which contained damn near every substance related to the science, and was a fairly new edition. Even more peculiar was that the glossary contained the old names for ingredients as well as their contemporary titles, meaning that even if the ‘single multitude’s life’ now existed under a different name, he would still be able to track it down. Yet even then it did not appear.   
Plague Knight frowned as he shut the glossary and propped his chin up in his right hand, drumming his left fingertips against the table. 

If the single multitude’s life wasn’t an alchemical ingredient, maybe he was thinking about it wrong. He played around with the words in his head, trying to dredge up other meanings. One could never be too careful with these old texts.   
A thought struck him suddenly as he mulled over the words. Perhaps the ‘single multitude’s own life’ was not the title of the ingredient; perhaps it was separate. The life was what they wanted to obtain, and the single multitude was what they wanted to obtain it from. Now that he thought of it in this way, he felt rather silly for not seeing it before. The single multitude had to be some kind of creature. What he needed was a compendium of beasts. If he could find mention of a ‘single multitude’, finding out how to obtain its ‘life’ would naturally come next.

Plague Knight got up and had one of his minions go and fetch him as many books on fauna as could be found. It took a few days to obtain a proper collection, but when the green-cloaked figure returned, wobbling under the last of a heaping pile of volumes, Plague Knight sat down again to parse through them. On a whim, he had his underling sit with him as well. Two pairs of eyes could read twice as fast.   
Unfortunately, neither Plague Knight nor his minion came up with anything yet again. There were no creatures known as singles, multitudes, or single multitudes. 

“It must be some kind of metaphor, then…” Plague Knight murmured to himself as he shut the twelfth and final bestiary with a snap, “Hee..! Just as the Blerglergy was called the ‘bird of many hues’, perhaps the single-multitude is the same way…”

Yet, if that were so, it was quite different from the other two. A multicoloured bird was a pretty straightforward description of a creature, and so was a woodland-based deity. But a ‘single-multitude’ was frustratingly oxymoronic. 

“S-sorry boss, I-I couldn’t find anything…” said the minion, quaking slightly, “P-please don’t punish me!”

“Heh, be off with you,” said Plague Knight, waving his hand vaguely at the minion, who bowed low and scurried off. 

Plague Knight sagged in his chair, scowling at the stacks of books around him. He needed those other two ingredients! What business did they have being so elusive when he absolutely required ultimate power? Without the Serum, he could hardly woo the object of his–– oh, blast! There he went again. He’d managed to keep her out of his thoughts for the last few days as he’d studied and searched, but here she was once more. Unable to stop himself, his mind drifted to what she might be doing now, at this very moment. Researching, most likely, like himself. She was ever so diligent…   
He could picture her there, folded up into a thoughtful zigzag at her desk, poring over her own stack of books. Her gorgeous green eyes were alight with an intelligent spark as they darted across the pages before her, soaking up information like a sponge. She was fidgeting with her quill, the feather flicking back and forth, sometimes sweeping lightly against her thick, iridescent hair, which framed her soft, plump face…

‘Stop it, stop it!’ he scolded himself, internally, ‘Imagine if she could read your mind, hee! What would she think?’

He wouldn’t be surprised if she could, honestly. She was becoming more and more proficient in magic every day, and…  
A second thought struck Plague Knight, causing him to jolt forwards in his seat. The single multitude hadn’t appeared in any of the bestiaries because he’d been looking through compendiums of everyday, run-of-the-mill creatures. The single-multitude, just like its two fellows, must be magical in nature! Ah! How could he have been so idiotic?!

Plague Knight leapt to his feet and once more sent his minions off to gather new volumes. The collection process was slightly lengthier than before, as books on magical beings were rarer. Plague Knight surreptitiously employed the services of his contacts in Propeller Knight’s armada, covering a wider stretch of ground. Eventually, once he had accumulated enough volumes, he set to work perusing them all, this time with further assistance from his underlings. None of them knew exactly why he was looking for this ‘single multitude’, but they knew what would happen if he didn’t find it.   
They spent long nights by candle-light, squinting at the tiny, calligraphic letters of the arcane tomes. Plague Knight became taciturn and fidgety, hopping up to pace every few minutes, sometimes taking his current book with him. He was just coming back from one of these little trips when he caught a minion flipping quickly past a page in their book.

“Hee! What do you think you’re doing?” he squawked, breaking the silence and beetling over to reprimand the minion. 

The minion startled badly, nearly tearing the page he was turning. Plague Knight flipped it back and tapped his nail against it, disapprovingly.

“You can’t just go skipping pages! Hee! You’ll miss something!”

“B-but boss, I-I don’t like the illustration… it’s creepy…”

Plague Knight glanced down at the page he was tapping on. There was indeed an illustration there. It depicted a huge, roiling black mass filled with beady white eyes. Looking closer, it seemed the mass was made up of tiny entities, all packed together. Plague Knight stared.

“The single multitude…” 

The minion, who’s hands were over his eyes, lowered them hesitantly to peek at his boss. 

“Uh– S-sorry, boss?”

“Hee… Heeheehee! You lucky little fool,” he cooed, turfing the minion out of his seat and hunching over the tome himself.

The creatures displayed on the page went by several names, according to the text. Most of them were in the Old Old language, except for one that Plague Knight could understand quite readily; ‘Shadow’.   
According to the tome, Shadows were small, mostly quadropedal creatures that lived in hive communities in large, dark spaces. They infested the most cavernous caves and gloomy grottos, often in groups of up to a thousand or more. They were said to possess incredible resilience and strange magical properties, as well as having a keen liking for gold. Some could even learn rudimentary forms of speech. But what was most interesting to Plague Knight was the fact that, when threatened, the Shadows were able to form together into one, giant creature to take on their foe. A single multitude. 

Plague Knight slapped a bookmark between the pertinent pages and snapped the book shut, tucking it under his arm. He gave several slapdash orders to have the library reorganized and the other books packed up, then scuttled eagerly to the main hall, and out into the grounds of the Explodatorium.  
By this time, Percy’s special express catapults had been safely tested and implemented in the correct spots. Plague Knight boarded the one outside his castle and settled in for the flight, clutching his precious volume in both arms.

When he arrived in The Village, the moon was still in the sky. It took several loud knocks at the Hedge Pupil’s door to get him to answer.

“Ahhh… Sorry, Plague Knight, I was asleep… what’s–“

“Hee! Never you mind! Just let me in!”

Moments later, Plague Knight was splashing down the sewer-passage to Mona’s back room. When he arrived, the room was dark, and not a sound came from the bar next door. This made sense, of course- it was the middle of the night. But without Mona to bring him down, he wasn’t exactly sure how to get into the Potionarium. He tried knocking on the floorboards, but to no avail. The sound of his feeble tapping probably didn’t carry much farther than a few feet, and the chamber below was huge.   
Pacing thoughtfully, Plague Knight glanced up at Mona’s desk, which was still there. It looked very lonely without its owner sitting by it. He wandered over to it, wondering if there might be some kind of secret switch or mechanism, simultaneously hoping that not all her contraptions were magically-based. To his great surprise, he discovered that jumping on one of the floorboards right next to her desk caused the wood to flip over. Mona’s lever swung upwards from the place it had been, standing to attention, ready to be pulled.

“Hee! Well, that’s convenient!”

Plague Knight reached up and grabbed it, throwing his whole weight into yanking it over to the left. It stuck, for a moment, before jerking diagonally and eliciting a rumbling from below. Plague Knight quickly let go of it and scampered towards the place he assumed the Lifts would emerge from. Sure enough, the floor split open and several large, whirling cylinders sprouted up around him. Plague Knight giggled gleefully and tried to hop onto one of them. Unfortunately, the revolving motion made it very hard to get steady footing. Plague Knight leapt onto a platform and was immediately spun out of control, practically dancing to stay upright. There was a sudden flash of blue light, and the Lifts froze. 

“Plague Knight! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Mona was standing next to him, arms akimbo, a scowl on her round green face. Despite wearing her lab fineries, her hair was a complete mess, and the customary little crescents of pink and black over her eyes that he’d grown so used to were missing. Her eyes themselves were foggy and dull. It appeared she’d just gotten out of bed.

“Hee! Just coming to visit you, my dea– dependable partner!” Plague Knight stuttered, nearly forgetting himself in his excitement.

“You shouldn’t be using my Torque Lifts without supervision,” Mona grumped at him, “How did you even find the lever mechanism?”

“Hee! It was a lucky guess! And a good thing, too! How am I supposed to get down to the labs if you’re not around, hmm?”

Mona’s scowl deepened, “That’s what the secret mechanism was for… If you pull the lever all the way to the right, it sends a signal to me so that I know you’re there, and I can come get you. I was going to introduce it to you the next time you came over… but I was kind of expecting a little warning, first!”

“Heehee! I suppose I forgot to send word, didn’t I…”

“Yes, you did… And you almost killed yourself trying to use the Lifts without me.”

Plague Knight scowled under his mask, “Oh, please! You’re overreacting, hee! I just got a little unbalanced. A little practice and I should be able to handle them…”

“Don’t. Touch. My. Stuff. Without. Me,” Mona growled, punctuating each word for emphasis. 

Plague Knight stuck his tongue out at her. It was a useless gesture, but it made him feel better. Mona, almost as if she had indeed perceived the flippant little action, heaved a deep, exasperated sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

“…Right… why are you here, again?”

“Hee! I didn’t say,” said Plague Knight, quickly getting over his annoyance and hoisting his book up in the air to show Mona, “I’ve found it! The next ingredient for the Serum!”

Mona’s eyes widened, and their bleary look vanished in an instant. 

“Climb on.”

Plague Knight dutifully hopped onto one of the platforms, and Mona followed him. The next moment, the Torque Lifts reanimated and sent them spiralling down into the labs below. Plague Knight fought the urge to cling onto Mona for dear life, trying to support himself on his own. He did end up having to grab a fistful of skirt halfway through the trip, but his excitement was just powerful enough to take the sting out of the shame.  
After they’d dismounted, Mona impatiently summoned her desk between them and leaned over it excitedly.

“So? What did you find?”

“Hee! I discovered what the Single Multitude is!”

Mona grinned widely as Plague Knight opened his tome to the proper page and showed her the information on the little creatures. 

“Heh. They’re kinda cute,” she said, tapping the illustration.

“Not when they gang up, heehee!”

“Hmm, yeah… It says here they’re extremely hardy, even when they’re not swarming. Only three substances on earth can injure them…” she ran her index finger down the short list, “Orbs of Light, Holy Spring Water, and… Eldritch magic. Huh.”

“Heh, yes,” muttered Plague Knight, stifling a yawn and leaning up against the desk with her.

“And I assume that, by ‘life’, the recipe calls for its blood?”

“Heh, blood? Well, maybe– it just says ‘the single multitude’s own life’… that could mean its life-force, or–”

“Yeah. Your book says its blood has magical properties.”

“Oh! Does it? Hee..! Heehee… Guess I missed that bit…”

A small smirk appeared on Mona’s face, “I’m guessing you read just enough to solve the riddle and then made a mad dash over here…”

“Heehee! Oh Mona. Can’t pull the wool over your eyes…”

Her smirk widened in an almost catlike way and her eyes crinkled as they rested on him. Plague Knight felt rather hot around the collar and coughed.

“Heh! Well! Now that that’s solved, all we need to do is get our hands on one of those -hee!- little counter-measures, and then solve the final ingredient! Then we can focus on collecting the Essences!”

Mona’s smirk grew back into a grin, “Don’t worry about the last ingredient. I know what it is, and I’m going to go get some as soon as I work out a few things… For now, let’s just focus on locating those… uh, ‘counter-measures’, as you called them.”

“Hee! We’re practically halfway there!”

Plague Knight clicked his heels with glee and nearly toppled over. He steadied himself woozily on Mona’s desk, and her grin quickly vanished.

“Whoa. Are you okay?”

“Heehee! I’m fine!” he insisted. 

The truth was that he’d been awake for a rather long period of time, and despite his stimulants and vitamins, the lack of sleep was finally catching up to him. He stifled another yawn, trying to pretend he wasn’t exhausted. Mona wasn’t buying it.

“How long have you been studying, exactly?”

“Heh– Heheheh… Just… a week or two…”

Mona narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips again.

“I think it’s about time you took a rest.”

“No, really Mona, I’m fine…”

“You woke me up in the middle of the night. I need my sleep. And I’m not about to just leave you alone with all my stuff…”

“Mona! Hee! I’m not a child!”

Mona glowered at him, “No, you’re not. If you were a child, you’d be easier to put to bed…”

Plague Knight scowled under his mask. He was about to make it known that he resented the comparison, when he saw Mona’s expression go blank.

“…Look. Whatever. You can keep staying awake. I’m just going to go back to bed, though. I think better when I’m well-rested.”

Plague Knight felt his heart sink. He always hated it when Mona fussed, but seeing her give up on fussing was somehow even worse. As much as her concern made him feel weak, it also made him feel… well. Cared-about. He didn’t want her to stop caring about him.

“I-I… Maybe it is about time I turned in, heehee–“ he said, quickly, hastening to her side, “W-where was that sleeping-area, again..?”

 

When Plague Knight awoke next morning, he found himself feeling surprisingly refreshed. He sat up from the cot he’d chosen to sleep in and stretched, hearing a cacophony of cracks from his bones. There was a little ring of untouched cots around him, as none of the minions dared slumber so close to him. He found it mildly amusing, and hopped up. His robes smelled rank, and he wanted to change them so as not to put Mona off, but in his haste to see her, he hadn’t brought any extras with him.  
He supposed he’d either have to figure out how to summon them himself, or ask Mona for a new pair… Blast.  
He did his best to summon one of his clean ensembles from the lab, not wanting to bother his partner with this rather nasty errand. He was still not very good at magic, and only managed to conjure a new cloak for himself. That was good enough, however. He removed his old, dirty one, then pulled the clean one over his head. He could deal with his tights later…

Now a little less smelly, he made his way to the main labs and was surprised to find them swarming with activity.

“Hee! What time is it?” he said, mostly to himself.

A nearby minion carrying a stack of books called, “Late afternoon, boss!” as she whizzed past. Plague Knight frowned. He’d been asleep longer than he’d thought.

He beetled over to Mona’s desk, which was empty, and hunkered down to wait for her. As he did so, he pulled down the tome he’d left there the previous night and took a more thorough reading of its pertinent information. He focused particularly on the three substances that could harm these Shadow creatures. They would have to get their hands on one of them sooner than later, and then fashion it into an effective weapon. He was confident that that part of the plan would go smoothly; they were ever so good at crafting munitions. Securing the substance in the first place, however… that might take a little longer.

He was shaken out of his musings by the racket of the Torque Lifts rumbling to life. They shot up into the ceiling, then spiralled back down, one of them bearing Mona with it. She stood in the centre, perfectly straight, perfectly balanced. Plague Knight envied her natural grace. 

She stepped off the Lift lightly as it disappeared back into the ground and made her way over to the desk. She perked up at the sight of her partner and waved.

“Good… afternoon,” she said, clearly wanting to say ‘morning’ and being unable to, for accuracy’s sake. 

“Heh, good afternoon to you, too! Hee! You should have woken me– I’ve slept in far too late!”

“Well… Guess I got distracted,” she said, vaguely. 

She seemed rather distracted at this very moment, as well. She was staring past him with a glazed look in her eyes, her brows furrowed. Plague Knight decided to ignore it- she was probably just thinking about what she’d just been doing.

“Heh..! No harm done. Well, now, I’ve been looking over the book again -actually reading the whole page this time, heehee- and I think it would be best if we picked up where we left off last night post-haste! We should decide which of these counter-measures is most feasible to track down.”

“Mmm,” replied Mona, still not really paying attention to him.

Plague Knight cocked his head, curiously.

“Heehee..! I thought I was speaking to Mona Mopes, not the Magicist…” he said, teasingly.

Mona blinked, “Oh– uh– what..?”

“Hee! What an excellent impression! All you need is the tasseled cap!”

Mona flushed, picking up on his little joke.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” she muttered.

It was at that point that Plague Knight noticed Mona was holding something in her hands. He’d caught sight of it because she’d begun to play with it, flexing it between her fingers and running them across its edges. It appeared to be a little brown envelope. 

“Heh… What’s that you’ve got there?” he said, pointing it out.

Mona glanced down and clutched the envelope tightly.

“Oh, this? Uh, right… this is…” Mona shook her head as if to clear it, her eyes refocusing and her brows furrowing even deeper, “It’s something I just picked up at the Armour Outpost…”

“I see… And… what is it..?” he asked, more slowly. 

At this point he was starting to get a little worried. What was she so preoccupied with? Did the envelope contain bad news? Had her trip gone awry?   
Just as he was imagining all the worst outcomes that could have possibly occurred, Mona spoke.

“It’s… Well. Look. We’ve been working really hard lately, both of us,” Mona’s voice was back to its low, businesslike tone, and Plague Knight was immediately reassured, “And I was thinking… maybe, we need a little break.”

Plague Knight blinked in surprise.

“Heh, a little break? How so?”

“Well, I… We…” Mona ran a hand through her hair, “I saw this… little advertisement. At the Outpost. There’s going to be a theatre troupe performing…”

Plague Knight perked up in interest. He’d always rather liked theatre. When he was a teenager, he used to sneak into productions and avidly watch the actors strut about the stage. He’d gained a great fondness for dramatic pageantry when it was all in good fun, and he did so love a good story. He’d sometimes daydreamed of becoming an actor, though that would require at least some modicum of good looks. He’d still carried many mannerisms with him into adulthood from those carefree little outings. Going to a play would be… a lot of fun, actually.

“Paramonus Proust’s Playful Players in: ‘A Day of Horrors’.”

Plague Knight snickered bemusedly, “I’m sorry– What?”

“It’s an anthology of short horror plays,” Mona explained, “I thought it might be a fun little outing… Just to give us and the minions a bit of a rest.”

Plague Knight recoiled, “The minions? You’re not seriously suggesting they all go to–“

“No, no,” said Mona, quickly, “I’m not an idiot, Plague Knight. I mean, they’ll have the day off to… I don’t know. Not work. And we’ll go to the performance. Look, I… I got tickets.”

She held out the envelope. Plague Knight took it, and sure enough, it contained two little official-looking slips of paper. 

“So… What do you think? We can brew up a quick transmutation potion and head down tomorrow… I-I mean, if you want to. Whatever.”

Plague Knight grinned. What a lovely idea! They had been working awfully hard, as of late, and they were far enough along that they could feasibly take a break -especially one that was only a day long. They could just relax and enjoy a nice little production, just the two of them. Yes, it was almost like– …Almost like… 

Plague Knight felt heat creep up his neck as the idea entered his mind. A little outing to someplace fun, just the two of them… it sounded almost like a date. But it wasn’t, of course! Mona thought of him as a friend, and as she’d said herself, this was meant to be a simple day off. Nothing romantic about it. It was a horror play, for goodness sakes. He quickly shooed the idea out of his head.

“Heh– eheh… Ah, yes! That sounds lovely– er, likely! I mean, it sounds amusing! I’d lo– like to go, heehee!”

Mona brightened up, “Oh, good. I’m glad I didn’t waste gold on a second ticket.”

“Hee, yes…” Plague Knight shuffled nervously, “Ah… heh, I must say, though, isn’t horror a rather blasé choice? After all, The Valley’s seen nothing but horror since the Order came into power…”

Mona chuckled, “I… I guess maybe they’re trying to give them something else to be scared of? To take their minds of… the other fear..?”

“Hee! That almost makes so little sense that I understand it!” giggled Plague Knight, “Now… let’s see about that transmutation potion, shall we?”

 

Later that evening, Plague Knight had successfully finished his brew, while Mona pored over the magical bestiary and compared its information to several other tomes she had on hand. They exchanged a few words now and then, but mainly focused on their respective work.   
Once his concoction was ready, Plague Knight took a sip of it and stood in front of a mirror Mona had provided for him. He shot up slightly, his mask retreating into a young, tanned face which blossomed with freckles. His eyes and curls gleamed chestnut in the candlelight, and his mouth stretched into a wide, slightly patchy grin.  
He was Bertram again. It had been a long time since he’d beheld the youth’s face he’d come to call his own, and recreating it without the original young man’s blood had been a little difficult. But he didn’t want to go as some minion. He wanted to go as someone as close to himself as possible… someone Mona would recognize, and welcome…  
He watched his cheeks flush as the test began to wear off. He was thinking about this like a date, again. He had to stop that.

“So, is it ready?”

Plague Knight turned to see Mona approaching him just as the last of the potion’s effects dissipated.

“Hee! Yes, all ready to go! I’ve brewed enough for an entire day, as well as a cancellation concoction in case we decide to come back early.”

“Come back early?”

“Heh– w-well, I mean, I assumed we might have something to eat after the show… but perhaps not..! So, that’s why I made the… thing,” he babbled, awkwardly. 

Again, he was still thinking about this like a date. It seemed he couldn’t stop doing so. He’d learned of the concept in more detail from Percy, who talked of nothing but dates. Dates he’d had, dates he planned to have, legendary dates he aspired to. He was quite the popular Horse. Then again, considering the frequent new participants of these ‘dates’, it seemed nobody wanted to have more than one…

“We could stop for a bite,” said Mona, thoughtfully. 

She seemed rather pleased by the idea, and Plague Knight stifled a sigh of relief.

“How about you, heh? Aren’t you afraid of being… singled out?”

Mona sighed. Since the Enchantress came into power, her green skin got even more stares when she was in town. Luckily, most people in The Village knew her as the sleepy game master in the tavern, and didn’t do more than whisper the odd rumour or two. But Mona hadn’t been to the Outpost very often since the Order descended, and the hatred of an emerald complexion such as her own was forever on the rise.

“I’ve developed a type of makeup to help me blend in,” she muttered, “It’s a chore to put on, but it’s easy to banish when I’m finished being ‘normal’. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“Hee! Can’t wait,” giggled Plague Knight, blithely.

It seemed they would both be dipping their metaphorical toes into the past… He as Bertram once again, and Mona under the guise of normalcy. It seemed like an age since they’d been at the Academy together… and an age since they’d burned it to the ground. Now the only thing on fire was his stupid heart, and it was making him sweat buckets.

“Well..! Big day tomorrow,” he piped up, “I’m… going to get some rest… so that I’m at my best… heehee..!”

He scampered away before he could make an even bigger buffoon out of himself, tucking his precious brews into his robes. Despite his assurances that he was going to bed, he barely slept a wink before the next day.

 

“…Alright, I’m ready.”

Plague Knight had just finished downing his transmutation potion when Mona stepped out from behind a screen. It was the middle of the morning and both alchemists seemed a little on edge. Mona stood in her plum-coloured robes, a pale shade of peachy pink from head to toe -or at least, neck to forehead, as that was all that could be seen of her.   
The pair stared at each other for a few moments, taking each other in, before turning away, quickly.

“That’s… I remember that face,” Mona muttered, “It’s been a while… Petrel.”

Plague Knight chuckled, his voice coming out deeper and less creaky, “Heh, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you look so ordinary! …Although the hair ruins it a little. You couldn’t have dyed it black?”

Mona snorted, “The makeup’s enough of a mess. I don’t want tannin powder everywhere as well.”

“Heehee..! I was only joking…”

“Come on, then…”

Mona beckoned Plague Knight out one of the secret backdoor passages that lead out of the Potionarium. These were meant to be used as evacuation and cargo paths, but one could use them to simply leave the building if they wanted. They opened out in clandestine, out-of-the-way places, often concealed by clusters of trees or large rocks to hide their users movements.  
When the pair were finally able to surreptitiously enter The Village, they boarded the catapult and sailed off to the Armour Outpost.  
The walled fort was just as busy and bustling as it always had been. Valiant knights stood on guard at the street corners, their shiny fingers laid carefully over the hilts of their swords. Plague Knight eyed them as he walked past with Mona, contemptuously thinking that he could probably best all of them at once. Though, then again, the Enchantress herself had failed to take the Outpost, so perhaps these knights were of a higher caliber than normal… 

“This is it,” said Mona, pointing to the square, where a stage had been erected. There were already quite a number of people standing around it, gazing up at the slightly patchy curtains. A few seats had been set up around the outskirts of the areas, and the more distinguished guests were settling down there.

“I got us groundling tickets. They’re cheap, and… I thought you’d prefer to stand,” Mona muttered.

Plague Knight blinked up at her. She knew him so well– he’d get fidgety sitting in a seat without being able to get up. Standing was tiring, but it meant he could shift his weight and stretch his legs. He felt his cheeks colour and he quickly looked away.

“Heh, good! We c-can’t really spare much gold at the moment, so that’s… yes, good thinking.”

They handed in their tickets and wended their way through the crowd to pick a spot on the far left. Mona couldn’t stand too deep into the crowd or her height would annoy those behind her, and neither of them wanted to draw attention to themselves. Plague Knight didn’t mind craning his neck to look at the stage from where they were. They waited quietly, not speaking to each other. Mona slouched, staring at nothing in particular, and Plague Knight rocked back and forth, twiddling his thumbs. 

Finally, there was a trumpet call, and everyone shook themselves out of their waiting stupors to fix their eyes on the stage. A man in a shiny purple ensemble emerged from the curtains, waving to the crowd.

“Good day, good day, my friends! I am travelling playwright Paramonus Proust! Today, on behalf of my playful players, I welcome you to our first foray into spine-tingling spectacle … A Day of Horrors!”

The crowd clapped, and Plague Knight and Mona joined in. Proust bowed deeply, then began to back into the drapes.

“I shall be your guide on this tour of terror… the narrator to your nightmares this evening…” 

There was another little bit to his speech, but it became muffled and inaudible when he disappeared behind the cloth.   
A few moments later, the curtains opened, and the play began. At first, Plague Knight watched with rapt attention, straining his ears to catch every word, preparing himself to be spellbound. As the performance wore on, however, Plague Knight quickly found himself sagging in disappointment. Not only were the actors soft-voiced and tepid, but the plots were almost laughably predictable. The only scary thing about them were the number of cliches they employed at the same time. 

Plague Knight was just stifling a yawn at a very unconvincing werewolf when he felt Mona shift sharply beside him. He glanced up to see her looking slightly strained, and felt her usual temperature rise.

“Oh. Ah. Wow. That is scary,” she said in a stilted, mechanical tone, “I’m very scared. P–Petrel, will you hold my hand?”

Plague Knight stared at her uncomprehendingly, mouth slightly open. What on earth was she doing? Did she really want him to hold her hand? She couldn’t possibly be scared– he’d never seen anything less scary in his life, and Mona was no coward. Yet… the invitation was tempting. To intertwine his fingers with hers for no other reason than to just… hold. He felt positively intoxicated at the thought.  
But reality quickly gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. This was Mona he was dealing with. She was a sovereign of sardonicism. She had to be making some kind of joke– yes! She was clearly being sarcastic and mocking the terrible production. That’s all it was. She didn’t really…

Plague Knight let out a burble of nervous laughter.

“Hee! Oh, Mona, I’m sure they’re trying their best,” he whispered.

“No, I’m really scared,” Mona said, more insistently, leaning towards him stiffly, “Please comfort me.”

Plague Knight had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter this time.

“Hee– stop it!” 

Mona’s intense gaze faded into a look of disappointment and she turned her face away. Plague Knight’s heart sank. Had he upset her?

“Heh– I-it was funny! I agree, these people are awful. I-I just didn’t want to make a scene laughing…” he explained, hastily.

Mona remained listless, however, staring blankly at the stage, “Mm, yeah…”

Plague Knight fidgeted anxiously with the hem of his tunic, worrying the fabric between his fingers.

“…This sucks,” Mona said, at length, “Wish you could go liven things up…”

Plague Knight perked up. He felt badly for Mona; all she’d wanted was to have a nice day off, and she’d been so excited about this play, only for it to turn out to be a dud. He hoped she didn’t feel embarrassed or regretful; it wasn’t her fault these idiots didn’t know how to act. They’d ruined her day, and he certainly wasn’t about to let that stand. 

“Hee… I may not be magic, but I’m sure I can grant that wish..!”

Mona flinched, glancing down at him.

“Wh– No, Pl– Petrel, I was joking–“

“Heehee, you wait here. I’ll see you soon!”

He quickly began to wend his way out of the crowd. He sidled around the seats set up for higher-paying guests and crouched down in the dust outside, out of sight. He hadn’t brought any bombs with him, but he had brought his staff, which he’d disguised by wrapping the head in gauze. Just a little precaution– the guards at the Outpost’s catapult searched the incoming visitors for weapons, but walking staffs such as his own were generally easy to slip past. A quick bit of theatrics to make him look like he relied on it for mobility, and he was able to tuck it safely into his belt for the remainder of the day.  
Now, he focused all his energy on using a summoning spell. Bombs. He needed his bombs. For Mona…

POOF!

His arsenal appeared in a puff of bright green smoke, and he giggled gleefully to himself. Making sure nobody was nearby, he slipped his hand into his robes and pulled out his cancellation concoction. A mere sip caused him to shudder as the brew’s power flowed through him, counteracting the transmutation potion. A few moments later, he was Plague Knight again. He tucked his bombs into his robes, stood up, and brushed off his poleyns.

“Heeheehee… let’s get volatile..!”

 

“Oh Sir Robin! What shall we do? We are stuck in these haunted woods, and there is a ghost about!”

“Fear not, Lady Whittington, those rumours are only rumours! There is not a ghost in these woods!”

The actor sitting off-stage who was about to provide an ominous wailing sound was rudely interrupted by a loud explosion. Pink fire erupted in the middle of the stage, sending the players scattering in terror.

“HEE HEE HEE!!!”

Plague Knight waited for the smoke and fire to dissipate, having leapt onto the stage after his blast. He could hear excited murmurs from the crowd, and giggled more softly to himself. Evidently, they believed the show was finally picking up.

“HEE! That got your attention, eh? This play is certainly BOMBING, isn’t it?!” he cried, throwing his voice in a way the actors had been neglecting to do, “Well, FEAR NOT, citizens of the Armour Outpost! I’m sure I can make it… A BLAST!”

By this time, the crowd was beginning to realize that this was not part of the production. A few shouts went up as the penny really dropped.

“N-no! It can’t be!”

“My gods!”

“T-the Order is here!!”

Plague Knight let out a peal of deranged laughter. Ahh, it felt just like the old days. It wasn’t like taking over villages for the Enchantress– this was much more like his time as a bandit; all he wanted was a little something for himself. Terrorizing the townsfolk was just a side effect of their own hostility. Being a nuisance was fun again…

Plague Knight slapped a lob handle onto a Black Powder bomb and tossed it into the air, relishing the screams as it went off harmlessly above the assemblage’s heads.

“Heehee! I’m no actor, folks! It is I, the one, the only, the pestilential PLAGUE KNIGHT! Surrender your valuables, or forfeit your lives!” he shouted, hamming it up for effect.

His eyes darted through the crowd, searching for Mona’s tall figure. He caught sight of her, still standing to the far left of the quickly scrambling crowd, and shot her a wink. Not that she could see it, of course.

The sound of clanking told him the guards had finally arrived.

“HEE! Here comes the cavalry!” he shouted, scathingly, “Took you long enough!”

“Leave this place, Order scum!” shouted the head knight, who’s armour gleamed golden in the noonday sunlight.

“Weeeeeheehee! MAKE ME!” cried Plague Knight, childishly, lobbing another Black Powder bomb at him.

The knight swept his blade in an arc and slashed the explosive out of the air. The cowering crowd cheered.

“This is your last warning, fiend!” he shouted, as his fellows flanked him, swords raised, “Leave now!”

“Heehee! I don’t think you heard me through that fat helmet of yours, tin-can! I’m not leaving!”

“Then taste my blade!!!”

The Knights began to form a circle around him, shifting back and forth with careful, calculated movements. They held their swords at the ready as they moved, and their eyes glittered behind their raised visors. 

Plague Knight cackled and tossed down a Tracer bomb at his feet. The rolling green flames tore across the ground, upending several knights in the process. Plague Knight burst into the air to dispatch them with a few Black Powders, but two of the knights leapt as well to meet him.   
Plague Knight performed a reverse-burst just in time, sending himself plummeting back to earth. The resulting explosion caught the pair of knights in midair and caused them to crash heavily into one another. Plague Knight hit the ground and scampered out of the way before they could land on him.

He laughed and capered across the stage, which began to groan under the weight of armour and shrapnel. Glancing out into the crowd, he spotted other knights trying to control the panicked masses. Some were doing their best to stop skittish people trampling their neighbours, whilst others were desperately trying to direct traffic out of the cramped square. Plague Knight suddenly realized Mona might get dragged out before he could finish his little performance.  
He was just about to attack the guards in the crowd to prevent this, when someone grabbed his arm.  
Plague Knight flinched and tossed a bomb to free himself from his aggressor, but a sphere of black energy intercepted his explosive and detonated it harmlessly. He looked up at the figure restraining him, and discovered, to his fury, that it was a Wizzem. And not just any Wizzem. A Tower Wizzem.

“What are you doing here, hee?!” he growled, “I’m busy!”

The Wizzem did not speak. Another one joined him, flanking Plague Knight. They both took hold of Plague Knight’s wrists in vicelike grips and waved their free hands in synch. A dark portal opened in midair, and the pair of magic users frogmarched Plague Knight through it. 

 

The chaos of the Outpost was abruptly silenced as Plague Knight emerged in the black stone corridors of the Tower of Fate.  
The Wizzems escorted him through the halls, and Plague Knight quickly realized that they were taking him to the Enchantress’s throne room. He struggled against them, angrily. 

“Let go of me,” he snarled, “If she wants an audience, I can walk to it on my own!”

The Wizzems ignored him, and continued to shunt him down the corridor. When they reached the throne room itself, they thrust him forwards with such force that he stumbled and fell to his knees.  
Picking himself up furiously, Plague Knight brushed down his robes and fought to compose himself. He had to maintain a false sense of civility with the Enchantress to make sure she didn’t suspect or harm him. And something about the way he was being handled told him she might not be very happy with him to begin with.

He craned his neck up to the vaulted ceilings of the chamber, where, sure enough, a trailing black figure hovered in midair, gazing out the stained glass windows. He wondered idly why she was so fond of that view. To his knowledge, there was nothing behind the Tower but craggy black mountains.

“Plague Knight…” 

The little alchemist quickly stood to attention as a freezing blast of air accompanied the sweetly cold voice of the Enchantress. 

“Heh, Your Enchantressty!” he cried, bowing low, “To what do I owe the pleasure of today’s––“

“Silence.”

Another blast of cold air practically froze him to the spot. The Enchantress began to descend, bringing her freezing aura with her.

“You are a small man in more ways than one, are you not, Plague Knight..?”

Plague Knight flinched. He realized he hadn’t had the opportunity to take one of his growth potions. He was in his true, diminutive form before her. 

“Heh… H-how do you mean, Your Enchantressness?” he asked, uncertainly.

“A very small man with a very big ego…” 

There was barely a sound as she touched down on her dais, turning to face him with a rustle of velvety black fabric.

“A pathetic little creature who’s only way to feel big… is to cause big trouble.”

Plague Knight giggled, “Heh! We all have our hobbies, Your Enchantresship.”

The Enchantress chuckled coldly. It was an echoing, throbbing sound that made goosebumps erupt up his arms.

“Your hobbies include jeopardizing my carefully laid plans..? Hmm hmm… That won’t do…”

“Y-Your carefully laid plans, My Enchanted Lady?”

The Enchantress turned a cold pink eye on him.

“My dear little alchemist… You claim to be a clever man. Tell Me… why do you think the Armour Outpost still stands..?”

Plague Knight giggled, “I, haha, I wouldn’t know, Your Enchantressty! Please enlighten this poor, misguided fool, so that he may––“

“Because I allowed it to.”

Her words turned harsh, and so did the cold. She began drifting lightly across the dais in midair, her robes billowing softly below her. Plague Knight tried to suppress a shudder.

“Hope, my dear little alchemist…”

“Ah… pardon?”

The Enchantress gazed down at him contemptuously. 

“Hope. Hope binds people. It keeps them going. If they can hope to survive my onslaughts, they will hope there is some way of defeating me… They will feel less fearful, less… desperate. They will believe they can still make merry, just as they did today… And the merrier they feel, the bolder they will become, and the bolder they become, the more painful it will be when I crush them once and for all.”

The Enchantress laughed one of her ululating laughs, “Do you see, My servant..? Can you comprehend My devilish little ploy..?”

“Heehee! Oh, very devilish indeed, Your Enchantresship!” cried Plague Knight, feeling slightly nauseous at his own sycophantic behaviour. 

“Ho ho. If you approve of it so, why have you tried to dismantle it..?” she asked, sweetly, “Why have you acted without My permission..?”

Plague Knight tapped his fingers together, nervously, “I-I was unaware of Your plans previously, heh, M-My Queen– Heehee! I-I was just having a little fun..!”

“Really..? You believed Me too weak to take over a single paltry fort..? Ho ho. This won’t do at all…” 

The Enchantress straightened up to her full height in the air and the cold became absolutely glacial. 

“You have forgotten your place, alchemist,” she hissed, “Swept up in your foolish quest to fill that gaping hole in your piteous little chest… You must be cured of your pathetic bravado… And reminded of the power of the One you serve…” 

With a fluid motion, the Enchantress swept her arms back, curling her fingers around a blazing orb of pink energy, before thrusting it at Plague Knight. He was frozen to the spot. He couldn’t dodge. The projectiles hit him square in the trunk, so cold they almost burned. Then he was in darkness.

 

\- - -

 

His upper arm hurt. There was a crushing pressure around it, and it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. Wind whipped around him, ruffling his dirty tunic as his feet scrambled feebly to find purchase that did not exist.

“You worthless parasite… you malignant, ugly little worm.”

A deep, croaky voice issued from before him. A fainter, higher voice piped up from farther back. 

“Father, no! Please, don’t– It wasn’t his fault! He was just trying to–“

“SILENCE! You’ve defended him long enough! Or are broken bones not sharp enough to get it through your thick skull that this squab is nothing but a stain on our family?!”

The higher voice came again, more urgently this time.

“Mother– Mother, don’t let him, please, he didn’t–“

“Hush, now, Pietr, don’t look…”

“F…F— Agh–“

Words burst forth from his own throat, weak and creaky. The talons digging into his arm hurt so much…

“Now, you miserable wretch..!”

He was being carried forward. The wind increased. 

“Father–– P-please– Don’t– P-please, heh, I’ll– I can–– I can fix this, fix ME, I–h– Agh––!“

“Fool that I was… I should have done this the moment you hatched from that putrid egg..!”

The pressure released abruptly, and he was falling. Falling. Air rushed past him as the ground came up to meet his fragile bones, the crushing impact of cold, cruel earth was only moments away– he was going to die, he was going to die–

 

\- - - 

 

“No, no, NO!”

He’d hit the ground in a heap, yet there had been no impact. His limbs flailed, talons scratching against the stones… The stones? 

Plague Knight struggled into a sitting position, breathing heavily and sweating, blinking tears out of his eyes. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard he was afraid it was going to break his ribs. But he wasn’t where he had thought he was… No, he was sitting on the cool dark stones of the throne room. Looking up, he beheld the Enchantress hovering before him, a malevolent smirk stretching her lips. And around her was…  
Plague Knight’s heart plummeted into his stomach. His minions were gathered around her in a small semi circle. Some cowered, others had their hands over their beaks or stuffed into their robes, and a few were looking away, unable to even face the sight before them.  
With a growing sense of horror, he realized what had happened. They had watched their leader plead and scream at nothing, collapse into a heap, cry like a frightened child… The heat of humiliation clashed with the cold of the chamber around him.

“Perhaps that will refresh your memory…” murmured the Enchantress, mirth bubbling beneath her soft tones, “Now… begone with you. All of you.”

The Enchantress waved her hand imperiously, and the minions quickly scampered out in a flurry of pink and green cloaks. Plague Knight stood up shakily, a numbness enveloping him. 

The next thing he knew, he was in front of the magic mirror. He didn’t remember walking there, but he must have, as he was alone. He stared quietly into its whirling depths. The Wizzem operating it muttered something gruff at him that he didn’t quite hear as he climbed through the surface, emerging in the grounds of the Explodatorium.

 

By the time he entered its greenish halls, he had come back to himself a little. The numbness was quickly being replaced by a sickly cauldron of fury and shame. He strode, still shaking, through the halls, making his way towards his room. 

“Plague Knight..!”

He flinched at the voice and turned around to find Mona standing there, still in her disguise. His stomach lurched.

“What… what are you doing here?” he squawked, “You’re not supposed to be here..!”

“I saw you get taken by the Wizzems– What happened? Does she know–“

“Nothing happened,” Plague Knight snapped, “Go back to the Village before someone sees you.”

“Nobody’s going to see me,” Mona shot back, “I can take care of myself. Listen, Plague Knight, I know something happened up there. You’re acting really–“

“Nothing happened,” he reiterated, this time in a snarl, turning to face her, “I’m not acting anything, heehee! But I’m about to be very cross with you for jeopardizing your position, so it would be best if you used that faulty teleport of yours to get out of here!”

Mona stared at him, mouth open, before her face darkened into an ugly scowl.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of idiot minion,” she growled, “Something definitely happened, and if you don’t tell me what it was, I’ll–“

“You’ll what?” interrupted Plague Knight, derisively, “What will you do, Mona? Beat the answer out of me? Eeheeheeheehahahaha! You couldn’t do it before, and you won’t do it now. What else is left to you? Your sharp little tongue? Will you mock the answer out of me? Oh yes. You think you’re oh so clever and witty, don’t you? Sarcastic comment after sarcastic comment…”

Plague Knight shook his head contemptuously, “You have no gods-given right to answers. And I’m not about to let your spoiled little rich-girl attitude ruin our plans. Go. Home.” 

Mona stood there in silence for a few moments, eyes wide. Her lips moved soundlessly, as if she wanted to say something but was unable to. Then they closed firmly into a painfully thin line, and she disappeared in a whirl of plum silk and blue light.

Plague Knight turned back to the halls and stomped off, seething. He made his way to his room and locked himself inside, throwing himself onto his bed. Bertram seemed to sense his ire, and scampered to the corner of his cage to cower silently.  
Plague Knight lay on his side, curled up into a shaking little ball. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white and his talons dug into the pale greenish flesh of his palms. He felt so angry he might literally explode. She had no right– no right to pry into what had happened. He had absolutely no intention of telling her he’d been horrifically humiliated in front of his own underlings, and see her eyes narrow in disgust.

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for such a dirty trick. Of course it was all an illusion, a dream– he couldn’t have been sent back there. Even the Enchantress didn’t have the ability to warp through time. Yet, it had all seemed so real… He usually only experienced that memory in particularly nasty nightmares, waking to find himself in a crumpled ball on the floor, shaking. But this time he hadn’t been alone in the comfort and safety of his room… They had all seen him sobbing and grovelling… they would never look at him the same way again.

Shame and humiliation ate through his chest like vitriol, making him feel queasy. He rolled onto his back, and as he did so, he caught sight of the portrait of himself above his bed. He looked so menacing and eerie, purples and greens lighting the image with macabre intent. What a lie. What an absolute joke.

“Hee hee hee… Plague Knight indeed. A fine Knight you made…” he whispered to himself, jaw clenched tight, “You’re pathetic..!”

With a burst of anger, he leapt on the springy surface of his mattress and bounded high into the air. With a single slash, he raked his talons across the canvas of the painting, tearing it in half. The jagged scrap fluttered limply to the ground as Plague Knight descended, and he caught it, shredding it with intense ferocity. 

“Ugly, weak, disgusting,” he hissed, croakily, “Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

His bounces slowly diminished until he was sitting flat on the bed, fists stuffed with strips of canvas. He got up and stomped over to the Sweet Vitriol furnace and tossed them inside. The liquid in the glass orb above bubbled as they curled and blackened in the flames. Just like his reputation. 

The minions might pity him too much to spread the story, which was humiliating in and of itself, but if the odd one was callous enough to find it funny, the whole Tower would eventually know. His chest constricted at the vile thought of Spectre Knight being made aware of his little breakdown. Gods. He was barely respected as it was; now he would be actively ridiculed. 

But so what? So what. That’s how it had always been. He’d had his fun pretending to be intimidating and scary; now the universe was settling back into its natural order. He would simply go back to being a contemptible, friendless little freak. And that wasn’t so bad, he reasoned. He’d lived through it before, he could live through it again. The mockery was almost like an old companion… Except… except…

Horror rose like bile in his throat as an awful realization dawned on him. In his fury, he’d forgotten that for the last few years, he hadn’t been friendless. Because Mona had been with him. Mona, who actually cared about him, who listened to him, who could stand to be near him, who… who he’d just screamed abuse at.

He lurched forwards, panic taking over. She must be so angry. He’d been so nasty, and all the things he’d said… he hadn’t meant a single one. Sure, her teasing could hurt sometimes, but he liked her sarcastic wit. And despite feeling a little coddled by it, her refusal to hurt him was actually rather touching. Calling her a ’spoiled little rich girl’… that was just disgustingly mean spirited. He remembered the dead look in her eyes long ago in the halls of Pridemoor keep, and her assurance that she didn’t miss home at all… She must have hated it there. 

Plague Knight sprang to his feet and dashed out of his room, bursting down the corridors. He had to find her and say sorry before it was too late– if it wasn’t already. As much as he hated apologizing, Mona deserved it. All she’d dared do was be concerned for him, and in his anger and mortification, he’d lashed out like an idiot..!

He sprinted to the catapult and leapt into the bucket, flinging himself skyward. When he arrived at the Hedge Pupil’s house, he practically broke the door down hammering on it.

“Oh, Plague Knight, wh–“

“Out of my way!!”

He splashed down the secret passage and almost neglected to check if the coast was clear at the end in his haste. It was, however, so he leapt down, stumbling a little on landing, and rushed towards Mona’s lonely desk. He stomped sharply on the floorboard next to it, deploying the lever, and yanked it, hard. He’d forgotten how to set off Mona’s secret signal, but he really didn’t care. He just needed to get to her…

The Lifts rumbled up out of the floor, and Plague Knight threw himself flat on one of them to cling onto during his descent. He spun dizzyingly down and came to rest on the floor with a bump. Scrambling woozily to his feet, he saw Mona standing by her cauldron, peeking at him silently from behind a curtain of hair. She mad no move to near him, but she didn’t flee from him either. Was that a good sign? Or was she about to tell him off..?

“M-Mona!” he cried, rushing towards her, “I–I–I’m––“

“I’m sorry!”

Plague Knight blinked in shock. They’d both said the words at the same time.

“Wha… what? You’re sorry?” squawked Plague Knight, flabbergasted, “Wh– Why on earth are YOU sorry, hee?! I’m the one who shouted at you for no reason!”

“Y-yeah! Because she– Because if I hadn’t– If I hadn’t made that stupid quip, you would never have made a scene like that, and you wouldn’t have gotten caught!” she spluttered back in distress, blue in the face, eyes over-bright. 

Plague Knight gave a cackle of shrieky laughter, “How on earth is that your fault?! Hee! I was the one who nearly blew our cover by acting on a comment that was obviously a joke! Because I clearly can’t help myself being an ass!”

He stared in dismay. Did she really blame herself for his moronic little escapade? He’d just wanted to show off and liven things up, save her day off. It was his crippling need to impress her that had lead him to pull such a foolish stunt, not her actual words.

“It just–“ Mona was getting increasingly worked up, tugging hard at her sleeves and clenching her fists. Plague Knight could feel heat pouring off of her like a forge, “They took you to that horrible Tower and now I can feel her disgusting little hands all over you!! She did something to you, didn’t she?! It’s– It’s– I––“

Blue energy arced off of her and all of her hair stood on end as she advanced on him, “Come here! NOW!”

Plague Knight practically teleported to her, utterly terrified. He’d never seen her so completely incensed before. Her hair and robes were billowing in some kind of non-existent wind, and she was glowing blue around the edges. She looked like something out of a frightening fairytale.

As soon as he was in front of her, she fell to her knees and began to inspect him. He stood perfectly still, too afraid to move. Mona’s eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips, then she reached out and placed her hands on either side of his ribs. She held his torso, not squeezing exactly, but quite firmly, and stared, fixedly. The heat issuing from her slowly changed. At first, it was scorchingly hot and almost painful to be near. Then, little by little, it calmed into a sort of glow, like the warmth from a cozy fireplace. This warmth spread from her fingers into his chest, dispelling a chill that he hadn’t realized had been there. To his faint surprise, it dawned on him that this was the same feeling her special red potion gave him when he drank it.  
Mona trembled slightly, her lips parting to show gritted teeth. Plague Knight felt his own heat rise up his face; the entire process was rather intimate and extremely bizarre.  
When she was finally finished doing… whatever she’d been doing, Mona fell back, stumbling slightly. As she rose to her feet, Plague Knight caught sight of her palms, which were devoid of makeup now; they looked raw and shiny, as if they’d been burned… 

“Wh-what… heh, wh-wh-what did you just..?” Plague Knight breathed, gingerly feeling the warm spots under his arms where her hands had been.

“…She’s not allowed,” Mona mumbled, disjointedly, turning away, “I won’t ever let… Filthy little… Never touch you again…”

There was an almost jealous ache in her low, aggravated tone. Plague Knight giggled nervously out of habit. 

“I… heh… T-thanks..?” he whimpered.

The heat diminished even more as the fight went out of her, and when Mona turned back to him, her features were expressionless once more.

“…Are you okay?” she said, monotonously. 

“Heh, well..! I have no idea what just happened, heehee!.. But I, ah… Yes, well, er, listen… I-I came to… t-to apologize… because I… I really…”

He hung his head, guiltily, peeking up at her and tapping his index fingers together, trying to find the right words to express his remorse. Mona was silent for a few moments before crossing her arms and looking away again.

“…Apology accepted.” 

“Heh..! R… really..? J-just like that?”

“…Yeah. You’re… no use to me if we’re at odds. Since you’re here, you might as well come take a look at this…” 

She turned her head slightly, glancing at him from behind her hair. Her expression was expectant. Plague Knight hesitated, then padded gratefully to her side.   
He felt he’d gotten off far too easy; his guilt needed some kind of punishment to be quenched. Wasn’t she angry with him? It was her right to be so… he deserved a slap in the face for being so stupidly ornery…   
Yet, he supposed this was more in keeping with Mona’s personality. Just as she’d said, he was no good to her if they couldn’t work together. Whether Mona truly forgave him, or whether she was still angry, she was choosing to press on for the good of the project. As always, progress came first.

Oh Mona… When he had the Serum Supernus, he would make it up to her. A thousand times over, if he needed to. A million… a billion…

“Plague Knight?”

“Ah–?! W-what? Heh– I-I, ah––“

“Focus. We really need to work on this…”

“Heh, right, I, ah… sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, I've been waiting to post this chapter for a loooong time. Sorry again for the slow updates, but we're almost done!! Hope you guys are still having blast reading (haha) and thanks again so much for all your support! <3 --TS


	19. Spin Ye Bottle

Soon enough, Plague Knight found himself once again very grudgingly in close proximity to his fellow Order members. He had been called in to sit through another dull banquet, where the goings-on in the various quadrants were being discussed. Each member gave a small report on their activities, including Plague Knight, who gave a slapdash account of the various projects at the Explodatorium, and how he most certainly did not need any help from any of the other Knights.  
Propeller Knight, on the other hand, was not so confident. During a supply run for the Order, one of his largest dropships had sustained heavy damage in a storm. Even more unluckily, his head engineer had been aboard, and had been injured in the accident. Now, one of his most important vessels was damaged, and he had no one to fix it.   
Tinker Knight immediately volunteered to help, clearly eager to have an intimate look at one of The Valley’s greatest mechanical marvels. Plague Knight, to his dismay, was quickly asked to accompany him for technical support. 

As furiously as Plague Knight insisted he wasn’t much of a mechanical engineer, it was ruled that his mastery of elements and arcane processes would help the small man with his big task. Plague Knight secretly suspected the five remaining Order members just wanted him out of their hair -or helmets-, but complied nonetheless, knowing refusal would mean an even bigger quarrel. One he was not interested in taking on, for several reasons. 

So, several hours later, Plague Knight and Tinker Knight were scaling the Clockwork Tower to its upper levels, to board the hull of the Flying Machine once it was docked.   
This might have been an arduous journey, had it not been for Tinker Knight’s service elevators. 

“These’re state of the art,” said Tinker Knight, proudly, patting the side of the metal box they were in as it ascended the tower, “Blast-proof steel, modern pulley system, able to carry ten tonnes of machinery and only accessible by my personnel, heheh!”

Plague Knight remained silent, sulking. He’d hoped these ingenious little boxes might help him in his quest for Essences later, but from the sound of it, they would be very difficult to break into. He supposed that, when it came time to visit his mechanically-inclined friend, he’d need to take the old-fashioned way to his workshop… Blast.

“Here we are,” said Tinker Knight, as the box shuddered to a halt and let them out onto the top floor of the Clockwork Tower. 

The roof of the Clockwork Tower was a single, colossal turret, who’s battlements overlooked a spectacular view of The Valley. Only the Tower of Fate to the east was taller. The wind was high and it caused Plague Knight’s cloak to billow and his hood to tug. He pulled the fabric covering tightly around his face, not keen on it slipping back. He wore a cowl beneath it to cover the back of his head, but he preferred to keep the entire thing intact just the same.  
The turret was already bustling with Tinker Knight’s workforce, the Cogslotters. Burly figures in gaunt welding masks heaved boxes and tools into place, awaiting the arrival of Propeller Knight’s ship.

Hearing the telltale thupping of blades, Plague Knight bomb-bursted on top of the battlements and peered out into the sky. Sure enough, the Flying Machine’s enormous bow was slowly gliding towards them. The ship was pretty awe-inspiring to look at; brilliant red, blue and gold in colour, varnished so bright that one cold see their reflection, unless they were blinded first. It was held aloft with a single, gargantuan propeller supporting the majority of its weight, aided by a score of smaller propellers and hot air balloons spaced out around the decks. The gun deck was specially designed to accommodate its sky-oars; huge, sail-like paddles that rotated in a specific pattern to steer the ship through the air. The way the cannons were fired, the sky-oars could never be hit, despite being in such close proximity. 

Plague Knight watched it forlornly as it neared the tower. Here he was, at the Clockwork Tower, about to help fix part of the Flying Machine, and Mona couldn’t be around for any of it. These were the two things she wanted to see most in the world, both in the same place at once, needing mechanical expertise that she could provide… and cruel fate barred her presence.   
Plague Knight was still feeling terrible about their fight, even if Mona professed to forgive him, and this would have been the perfect way to make it up to her. Alas, he couldn’t even disguise her by transmutation to bring her along, and any other way was far too risky.  
So he sat alone on the battlements, watching the ship come in, feeling disgruntled and mopey. 

A Cogslotter’s curiously light footsteps passed behind him, and the next moment Tinker Knight was at his side.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she,” he said, watching the Flying Machine as it approached, “One of a kind. The inventor died before he could see it launch. Nobody knows why he bequeathed it to Prop, but I suppose he sure put her to good use, heheh.”

Plague Knight remained silent. He already knew all of this and more. Mona had gushed to him about it, once.   
As the two Knights watched, figures in bright blue and gold dropped one by one off the side of the ship, plummeting dizzyingly, then rising triumphantly back into the air with faint hums of their back-mounted propellers. The Hoverhafts, Propeller Knight’s elite crew, buzzed around the Flying Machine like wasps at a hive. A group of them dragged a huge grappling hook out of the side of the ship and brought it to a lower part of the tower, where they were most likely received by more Cogslotters.   
Once the docking process was complete, the hold of the ship opened, and a gangplank was attached to the turret by another squad of ‘hafts. 

“Allo! Allo!”

Rising over the wind came a familiar voice. Plague Knight groaned and hopped off of the battlements to avoid their boisterous colleague. Propeller Knight soared through the air towards the turret, glittering gold and green, before touching down gracefully next to Tinker Knight and bowing low. He slowed his heli-helmet just in time to keep from blowing Tinker Knight off the tower.

“Mille merci, my friend,” he cried, jovially, shaking Tinker Knight’s gloved hand, “I am forever in your debt for your help! This ship is, ahh… very complicated, no? Without Colombe, we are a in a bit of a pickle…”

“How’s Colombe doing, anyway?” asked Tinker Knight.

“Ehh…” Propeller Knight tilted his splayed fingers back and forth, conveying his uncertainty, “The healers are doing their best. I believe all will be well…”

“Well, let’s hope,” said Tinker Knight, “And let’s take a look at that dropship! C’mon, Plague Knight!”

Plague Knight gave a deep sigh and bomb-bursted back onto the battlements, then followed Tinker Knight down onto the gangplank. The wind was strong so high up, but a troop of hooded mages fitted with propellers flanked the walkway, blowing a steady stream of air from both sides to keep them from being flung off. Propeller Knight merely whizzed off above them, supported by his fantastical headgear.   
Once on the other side, the three Knights entered the ship’s hangar. Rows upon rows of drop-dinghies were parked on rails that ran the length of the hangar. Larger ships were lined up in the middle, with their specific quarry at the very back. 

“Heehee! Wow! That’s a lot of damage!” cried Plague Knight as he beheld the wrecked vessel. 

Its hull was torn open viciously, wooden splinters and twisted metal sticking out at all ends. What appeared to be the engine was exposed, and it seemed to have had some severe trouble. Plague Knight could definitely tell the thing had exploded; telltale markings and obvious damage showed its last moments were not peaceful ones. 

“This is the problem,” said Propeller Knight, motioning to the blown out husk, “The hull we could have fixed quite quickly… the engine, not so much. It is very special, and without Colombe, we cannot fix it…”

Tinker Knight immediately trundled forwards to inspect the thing.

“Don’t you know anything about your own vessel?” he asked, disapprovingly as he climbed into the broken dropship.

“Hoho! I am a pilot, monsieur!” cried Propeller Knight, “I fly these things, not build them! We have the original blueprints, but they are very difficult to decipher, and the process of construction is very tricky… or so I’m told.”

Plague Knight hung back as the Knights bickered and took in the hangar. He wanted to remember as much of it as he could to tell Mona about when he got back. He hoped a second-hand story would suffice until he was strong enough to get her the real thing… Actually, that was a brilliant idea. After he drank the Serum Supernus, he could probably conquer the Flying Machine with a flick of his wrist. Once Propeller Knight was ousted, he could gift the spectacular ship to Mona. She’d like that…

He grinned to himself, lost in visions of conquest and triumph, as well as the delicious aftermath. He was rudely awakened, however, by Propeller Knight tapping him sharply on the shoulder. 

“What?!” he squawked, leaping away from the taller Knight.

“Rise and shine, piaf! Tinker has need of you!”

Plague Knight scuttled away from him, adjusting his robes in annoyance. He hopped over the wreckage and into the dropship, where Tinker Knight was sitting, surrounded by broken machinery and tools. He seemed agitated.

“‘bout time you got here. This is no time for daydreaming! Now listen. I’m deciphering these diagrams,” he pointed to the blueprints spread out next to him, “The engine is going to need a lot of specific parts, and multiples of them. I think I can build them, but it’s going to take a while, and it’s going to be delicate. I was thinking… to get this done quicker, what if you used your alkewhatsits to duplicate the finished pieces? Then I can devote the extra time to starting on the next component? That’s possible, right?”

“Alchemy,” sighed Plague Knight, correcting the engineer, “And I can duplicate your pieces, hee! But I’ll need the original and the same quantities of the same raw materials for each copy.”

“Alright! Now we’re cooking. Prop! You tell all your boys to keep quiet so we can work. And can you do anything about that darn put-put-putting?”

“Regrettably, I cannot turn off the propellers. Unless we would like to plummet to our deaths,” said Propeller Knight, sardonically, “…Well. You. Unless you would like to plummet to your deaths, ohoh. But I can tell my men to quiet down.”

Moments later, Plague Knight and Tinker Knight had returned to the Clockwork Tower to set up. Tinker Knight busied himself at his worktable, and Plague Knight sat some ways away, carefully tracing out a Multiplication Circle on the floor. Propeller Knight leaned against the wall, watching them idly. Plague Knight wanted to make some kind of joke, but he knew Tinker Knight could get extremely tetchy when he was concentrating. As much as he loved having his little fights, right now, he just wanted to get this all over with and go home.  
A moment later, Tinker Knight let out a little grunt of annoyance.

“D’augh…”

“What is the matter, ami?” 

“Mnn… S’nothing…”

There was short silence before Tinker Knight made another sound of vexation.

“Are you sure you are alright?”

“M’fine.”

“If you say so…”

After Tinker Knight’s third sigh of exasperation, Plague Knight flopped onto his back, groaning.

“Hee! You know, if you have something stuck in your throat, I can brew you up a remedy. Anything to stop you making that horrible noise…”

“I’m fine,” grumbled Tinker Knight, “I’m just… missing my Mobile Gear. That’s all.”

“Mobile Gear..?” asked Propeller Knight, curiously, “What is this?”

“Little moving platform I made,” said Tinker Knight, wistfully, “I used it to move around more freely. These short little legs aren’t so good for getting around, you know.”

“Indeed,” said Propeller Knight, conspicuously crossing one of his own long, handsome legs over the other. 

“But Spectre Knight broke the damn thing when he ‘recruited’ me, and I keep forgetting to fix it! I managed to get it halfway done, but the alloy needed to get its flight capabilities in order is extremely rare… needs to be imported in. And I keep forgetting to put in a request form with your boys ‘cause I’m always distracted by about a dozen Order projects at once! Like this one…”

Tinker Knight sighed, deeply, “That damned boneclang… Destroyed my tank, as well. I’m still rebuilding it. Enchantress wants an army of’em, but I can’t even finish one with all the other stuff she’s putting under my belt! Those two, I swear…”

“Hoho! Indeed! A most vexing pair,” said Propeller Knight, “My vessel used to be the site of huge parties and galas. We would fly carefree through the sky, doing what we pleased, with whom we pleased, and making a tidy profit, also! Then that ghastly ghost comes along, break my helmet, and demand I turn my beautiful boat into a dowdy flagship for this tiresome woman.”

“I don’t mind this Order so much,” said Tinker Knight, thoughtfully, “But I don’t like how it’s running The Valley. Fear’s just no way to rule a kingdom… and there’s far too much broke to fix, all at once. Heck, I don’t think she even wants us to fix it…”

“She is a tyrant, Tinker,” chuckled Propeller Knight, ruefully, “Tyrants do not care for peace. They care for order. Is it not obvious?”

“How ‘bout you, Plague Knight? What do you think about all this?”

Plague Knight was still laying on the ground, wishing the two of them would shut up and get on with their work.

“Hee! I think by now the answer should be obvious.”

 

Some time later, Tinker Knight was finally finished the first component to the engine. He brought it, along with heaps of scrap metal, to Plague Knight, who carefully prepared his circle. It was tricky to transmute copies of something, especially when they were so intricate, but he was not the greatest alchemist in the land for nothing.  
Tinker Knight let out an appreciative whistle when Plague Knight stepped back from his multiplication circle with a perfect duplicate of the engine part.

“Great! We’ll need six more of those, and I’ll start on the next one in the meantime.”

They continued to work as the day wore on, and continued to gripe as well. Plague Knight did not join in, in case he accidentally said something that might allude to his plans, but he did come to enjoy listening. It was rather refreshing hearing his colleagues complain about how much they hated being in the stupid Order of No Quarter. They didn’t seem to loath it as much as he did, but there was enough resentment present to cheer Plague Knight up. He even began to think more kindly of the two… perhaps he wouldn’t steal the Flying Machine after all… just borrow it. 

When the task was finally over, Propeller Knight bowed low to the two scientists.

“My deepest thanks to the both of you,” he said, genuinely, “If there is ever a favour you should need, do not hesitate to ask!”

“You’re welcome, Prop. Just tell your boys to steer clear of any storm clouds from now on,” said Tinker Knight, dusting off his gloves.

Plague Knight simply gave a blithe little salute, eager to get back to the Tower of Fate and then to the Explodatorium.   
The Wizzems that had transported them there in the first place were still waiting at the bottom of the tower to take them to the Enchantress to report in. They received the pair of Knights as they descended, then teleported them directly to her throne room. 

The Enchantress was satisfied by Tinker Knight’s account of the day, and praised him in her usual haughty manner. 

“I am pleased by your participation, as well, Plague Knight,” she crooned, smugly, “It seems you are finally settling in to your proper place…”

Plague Knight seethed internally, but gave the Enchantress a hearty chuckle.

“Hee! I certainly am, Your Enchantressty!”

“See that you continue this behaviour… It would be most tiresome to correct you again…” 

Plague Knight grinned fixedly at her. Hee hee hee! She’d just see who got the last laugh. Plague Knight ignored Tinker Knight’s curious head-tilt, and left as soon as the Enchantress dismissed them. 

He quickly broke away from the other Knight and scuttled down a lonely black corridor on his own, before taking a moment to lean against the wall. The darkness and silence were soothing on his jangling nerves. The long day of boring work, prolonged social interaction and recent indignities all weighed on him immensely. The sooner he was home, the better.   
He was just about to straighten up and head for the main hub, when he was startled by the muffled sound of shattering glass. He jumped and looked around, wondering where it had come from. The sound seemed to have issued from down the hall, and he beetled towards it, eyes narrowed.   
As much as he wanted to leave the Tower, his curiosity was piqued. He’d heard a great many things going on behind closed doors at the Tower, but never anything that sounded like a mistake. And the sound of shattering glass was almost always, in his experience, a mistake.

Stopping in front of a large, black iron door, he heard the sound again, louder this time, accompanied by cursing. He reached up, cautiously, and pried at the door handle. It was unlocked. He pushed it very carefully ajar and peeked in.  
Whatever he had been expecting, it was decidedly not what he found on the other side.  
There, floating in the middle of the empty chamber beyond, was Spectre Knight. He was hovering this way and that, slashing his scythe deftly through the air. As Plague Knight watched, he noticed that he was bouncing what looked to be a glass goblet back and forth with his blade. He followed the thing like a Memmec after a rat, dipping, darting and diving to keep it in the air. And as he swooped about the room, Plague Knight could hear him humming something under his breath.

“Dat da-dat da-dat da-da… Hrmm… Dat-da-dat da-dat da-da-DAMN!”

The goblet spun out of reach after a particularly wild swing and fell to the ground. Spectre Knight lurched after it with far less of his usual unearthly grace, and failed to catch it, causing it to join several of its fellows in splinters on the black stone floor. 

Plague Knight would have laughed hysterically, if not for the growing feeling of dread in his stomach. The goblet. The movements. The familiar little tune, hummed under his breath…

“HSS!”

Plague Knight flinched as Spectre Knight let out an angry hiss. When he’d gone to recover the falling glassware, it seemed he’d caught sight of Plague Knight in the doorway.

“Alchemist!” 

The door flew open, and Plague Knight stumbled into the room.

“What… were you doing in here..?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Spectre Knight drew himself up to his full height, fists clenched around his weapon, “Spying on me, were you? I would ask if your mother had taught you better, but I do not ask what I already know…”

“Hee! You’re dodging,” said Plague Knight, feeling slightly better knowing the other Knight was embarrassed, “What were you doing in here? I didn’t mean to stare, heh, but you looked so stupid flailing around, I couldn’t help myself, heeheehee!”

“Only a naive fool such as yourself would mistake that for flailing,” growled Spectre Knight, folding his arms, “If you must know, I was practicing a game of ultimate skill and prowess!”

“Ooooh! Ultimate skill and prowess? Heehee, dear me, I’m SO jealous! What game is this?”

“You wish to try for yourself..? Hmph. You wouldn’t score a single point. Spin Ye Bottle is for dextrous warriors… not mad scientists.” 

The bottom dropped out of Plague Knight’s stomach. He knew he’d recognized that tune. Spectre Knight played Spin Ye Bottle. Which meant…

“W… where can this game be played, h-heehee? I’ll make you e-eat those words, haha!”

Spectre Knight hovered nearer to Plague Knight, swinging his scythe lightly back and forth like a pendulum, “It is hosted in The Village, concealed behind a secret door so that only those clever and powerful enough may discover it…”

Plague Knight wished he didn’t feel so sick, otherwise he’d be rolling around on the floor, crying with laughter.

“Heh, you can enter The Village? Without causing uproar?”

“I may go wherever I please,” said Spectre Knight, haughtily, “But I no longer play there. My skill is such that the game master comes to ME in the Lich Yard, to challenge my mastery with advanced techniques..!”

Plague Knight’s fingers trembled, “Is that so..? She comes to visit you..? All alone..?”

“Yes,” hissed Spectre Knight, sounding far prouder than the situation warranted, “She visits me weekly to… hold on a moment. How did you know the game master was a she..?”

Plague Knight flinched, “I… ah…”

“Have you, by chance… played before?”

“I… heehee… that’s none of your business!”

Spectre Knight laughed contemptuously, “I see..! I understand your discomfort, now… You do so hate to have that planet-sized ego bruised, do you not?”

“Hee! Bruised ego?! You think I give a damn about that stupid game?! I couldn’t care less how good you are at bouncing glass off your stupid knife! You just keep all the nine hells away from M––!!”

Plague Knight clapped his hands over his beak before he could utter her name. His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt hot and dizzy. 

Spectre Knight stared in shocked silence, before he spoke again, the smugness in his tone of voice reaching a fever pitch.

“Oh..! I see. You have no interest in the game at all…” his voice suddenly turned disgusted, “HSS… I never thought you the type. Do you think it would be wise to form such attachments, given your position? Have you gone to her unmasked? Does she even know who you are..? Hmph. You fool…”

BOOM!

Unable to control himself, Plague Knight bomb bursted directly at Spectre Knight. He didn’t even have a bomb in his hands; he simply reached for the other man’s throat, intent on tearing it out. Blood was thundering in his ears and every muscle in his body was coiled taught like a crushed spring. He’d never been so utterly, blindingly, burningly angry in his entire life. He wanted to tear Spectre Knight apart, slice him to pieces, pound his armour into sheet metal and melt him into jelly in his vats.   
Spectre Knight responded by warping away in a whirl of crimson cloak and reappearing on the other side of the room with another hiss.

“How childish. I speak only the truth. Have you deluded yourself into believing a relationship with a Villager is possible? Even Propeller Knight has ceased his flirtations… We are hated, Plague Knight. Surely you have not forgotten this?”

Plague Knight ran at him, tearing an explosive from his robes, “STAY AWAY FROM HER!”

He tossed it, but in his fury, his aim was off, and Spectre Knight easily dodged.

“I have no intentions,” spat Spectre Knight, scornfully, “And only an insecure fool fears for the allegiance of his lover.”

“SHE’S NOT MY LOVER,” howled Plague Knight, his throat closing, strangling his words, “LEAVE HER ALONE!”

“Oh? Then what is she, to you? Why do you care so much that you’re willing to make a fool of yourself?”

“SHE’S MY– She’s my––“ Plague Knight panicked, nearly tripping over himself, realizing how close he was to giving her away, “I-I mean, she– I haven’t– She doesn’t–“

Spectre Knight was silent for a few moments more, before giving one final hiss.

“…I see… She does not know… Yet you still claim her? …You coward.”

There was so much malice in his last words that Plague Knight was shocked out of his anger. Spectre Knight’s disgust seemed almost personal in nature… though Plague Knight couldn’t think why.   
Before he could attack him again, however, the skeletal Knight vanished in a whirl of red cloak, leaving Plague Knight to come to terms with this new information alone.

 

An hour later, Plague Knight was still wandering the halls of the Tower of Fate, lost in dark thoughts.   
He’d lost his composure. He’d done the one thing he absolutely could not do; let someone know they’d gotten under his skin. And now Spectre Knight, his most hated enemy knew… He knew about his tie to Mona. Not the context, perhaps, but he knew they were connected. What if he asked her? What if he guessed? But then… Did that really matter, now?  
Mona was visiting Spectre Knight at the Lich Yard. In secret. He wanted to believe Spectre Knight was lying, but there wasn’t any reason for him to do so. Spectre Knight wasn’t the type to taunt his enemies with falsehoods; he commented only on bitter truths, then twisted the knife.   
So this was really happening… Mona… and Spectre Knight. Plague Knight shuddered. Spectre Knight claimed he had no romantic intentions for Mona, and that might be true… but this was no indication of her feelings on the matter.  
Despite his hatred for the man, Plague Knight could not ignore the facts. To the general populace, Spectre Knight would -apart from his undeath- be considered a perfect beau. He was strong, fast and dextrous, and, loathe though Plague Knight was to admit it, objectively pretty cool. His cloak gave him an aura of mystery, and his scythe increased his natural intimidation. He was tall– about Mona’s height, in fact, and the rumour was that he had been quite handsome before his death… Everything that Plague Knight was not.   
What did Plague Knight have that Spectre Knight didn’t? A beak. Explosives. His vast intellect… He was an alchemist! But… so was Mona. She didn’t need another alchemist, she was already a brilliant engineer and scientist. Why would she need something she already had in herself..? No… she needed someone big and strong to fetch her exotic and dangerous ingredients for her experiments. If Spectre Knight had joined her at the Stranded Ship, he surely would have been able to defeat the Hargywargle in two swings of his stupid scythe. Then he could have carried her over the snow in his arms, under the lights… How romantic. It made Plague Knight feel ill. 

‘You must calm down. Don’t jump to conclusions,’ said the last vestiges of his rational thought, ‘Just because Mona is going to visit Spectre Knight at the Lich Yard does not mean she has any interest in him. He said himself they were only playing her game. That’s all! Heehee!’

‘But why keep it a secret? Why has she never told me?’ his jealousy shot back, sharply, ‘Why act so clandestinely if she has nothing to hide?’

Plague Knight finally sank into a little heap on the floor and covered his lenses. He’d lost track of where he was, but he hardly cared. He felt like he was drowning. Falling into deep, dark water, the light of the surface speeding away faster and faster. The pressure was crushing him, yet if he opened his mouth to scream, he would surely be consumed… 

‘Please, don’t go,’ was all his poor, agonized psyche could muster, ‘Please don’t leave me…’

He didn’t know how long he’d been crouching there, but he was shaken out of his morose musings by a sudden skittering of feet. He dropped his hands and blinked into the darkness. There was very little light, and the stone of the walls and floors seemed rougher, here… it was colder, too. He wondered if he was close to the dungeons. His eyes searched the blackness, trying to make out the source of the noise. He saw something move, just then, something small and quadrupedal.   
At first, Plague Knight thought it was a rat. But, upon closer inspection, it didn’t have a tail… Nor ears. And its shape was all wrong…  
There was a tiny creature creeping across the floor before him, moving along on all fours. It was vaguely humanoid, though the only features on its smooth, oval head were two large, bulbous yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. It glanced up at him, suddenly, then made a dash for a small hole in the wall. Plague Knight leapt for it, but it scuttled out of reach and disappeared into the crack.

Plague Knight sat there, stunned. 

\- - -

“Mona! Heehee! Mona!!”

Back at the Potionarium, Plague Knight dashed past minions, nearly bumping into several, eager to get to his partner.

“Oh, hey Plague Knight. Welcome back… How was the banqu––“

“The Shadows! Hee!! I found them!” cried Plague Knight, excitedly, interrupting her, “I saw one at the Tower! And the book said they live in hives! There must be more!”

Mona blinked in astonishment. She had just been tinkering with a strange looking chalice, but she put it down and turned to him fully as she realized what he was saying.

“Wait– A Shadow? Like… Like the ones that–“

“That we need for the Serum! Yes! As soon as we craft that special weapon, let’s go get us a Single Multitude’s Own Life! HEE HEE HEE!”

Mona beamed, “This is great! Ooh, Plaguey, we’re so close!”

Plague Knight felt a painful pang in his heart. She was so beautiful when she was happy. All he wanted to do was make her happy for the rest of their lives… But now he wasn’t sure he could.   
Had Spectre Knight already won? Was Mona on the fence, or had she already chosen? Or was it all in his head? Dare he ask her..? No… No, gods, he couldn’t… What if it was true..?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Plague Knight blinked up at Mona, “Heh, uhhh, what? Sorry, I…”

“Heh. You’re so spacey sometimes,” she said, reaching out as if to muss his hood, before suddenly changing her mind and jerking her hand back, closing it, “Uh… Well. Come on! We really need to figure out how to fight those things, now…” 

Plague Knight nodded and followed her to the other chamber.  
He couldn’t fall apart now, even if his worst fears were true. He had to focus on the Serum. The Serum was his last chance, and he was so close, too. Once he had the Ultimate Potion, he would command total power… Even Spectre Knight, with all his allure and prowess, would be unable to stand against him. He would be just as strong and tall and mysterious… and Mona would love it. Right..? He could be everything anyone could ever want… and he would be, so that she would want him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the wait again; I've just been having a real tough time with the last chapter... But now I'm over the sticky patch so I can post again! Thanks to everyone who commented; your words help keep me going! Whether its a full review or a little joke, it all means a lot to me. Thank you all so much! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and stay tuned for more! We're just a couple chapters away, now... --TS


	20. An Underlying Problem

It did not take long for Plague Knight and Mona to decide which method to use to fight the Shadows. There were only three substances that could harm them; Orbs of Light, Holy Spring Water, and Eldritch Magic.   
The last item on the list could be crossed off immediately; they still weren’t completely sure what the nature of Eldritch magic or power was, and even if Plague Knight’s hunch about the Enchantress was correct, there was no way to get her magic without ruining the chance to obtain her Essence.   
This left the other two options; Orbs of Light and Holy Spring Water. To the best of their knowledge, there were no holy springs in The Valley. Apparently, a holy pond existed, but they decided not to test the distinction. The final possibility was the Orbs of Light, and these, it seemed, might be within their grasp.

“According to my research, Light Orbs have been mined in the south of The Valley for some time. There actually used to be a high trade for them in the Lich Yard, because they’re just about the only thing short of an exorcism that can fully dispel ghosts…”

Mona was sitting at her desk, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. Her hair was a mess and her clothing was ruffled. The bags under her eyes were purple and she kept yawning. It seemed she’d been pushing herself very hard, these days. The nasty, jealous part of Plague Knight’s brain wondered whether it had something to do with her clandestine visits, but he forced the thought out of his head.

“Heh, uuhhh, so they’re common in the Lich Yard, are they?” he asked, almost eagerly. An excuse to storm Spectre Knight’s abode was most welcome.

“Mmm, not anymore, I’d say…” Mona mumbled, “Light Orbs eventually crack and fade after too much use, and considering the fate of the Yard, I doubt there are many hanging around, anymore.” 

This was true… it seemed silly for Spectre Knight to keep something detrimental to his own forces. Plague Knight sagged a little. No rampage for him, then. He supposed this was for the best. He didn’t want to run afoul of the Enchantress again, after all. 

“So, heh… Where else can they be found?”

“Well, as I said, they’re mined in the south of The Valley. There’s a quarry down there… I’m not sure who’s jurisdiction it’s under, nor whether it’s still active, but there’s a chance…”

She flipped through a few papers and checked under a book or two until she found the article she was looking for, “Ah… Yes, it might be under Mole Knight’s control… which would make sense. The quarry itself is volcanic and, well… it’s a quarry. Digging is Mole Knight’s middle name.”

“Hee! Well, if that is where they are, that is where I shall go..!”

Mona glanced up at him, seemingly hesitating to speak. Then she pursed her lips.

“Just make sure to get as many Orbs as you can, okay? Forging a weapon out of them might be difficult…”

Plague Knight nodded, “Heehee… Worry not! I’ll find away to swipe those shining spheres… I’ll head down there right away!”

The corner of Mona’s mouth twitched, “…Good. Meanwhile, I’m going to look into the ‘Phlegmatic Praise’. I think I’ve pinpointed where it is… I might even be able to get it while you’re out. I just have to… check a few things…”

Her eyes strayed to her shelf, though Plague Knight wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

“Well… heh. See you later!”

“Seeya…”

Plague Knight scuttled from the room and made his way to the secret forest clearing where the catapult to the Explodatorium was. As he went, he did his best to focus on the task at hand, but his worries about Spectre Knight and Mona continued to rudely force their way into the forefront of his psyche, making it hard to concentrate. Nonetheless, he managed to formulate the beginnings of a plan by the time he was flying through the air to his lab.

Upon landing, Plague Knight hastened to the loading bay. This area of the Exploradorium was where all the goods were brought, inspected, and then shipped off to the storerooms. It also contained the stables, where the steeds were kept. Plague Knight rarely visited the loading bay except to personally examine a unique new import, but today he was performing a supply run of his own. He needed the proper equipment.

After selecting the smallest of the available carts, he approached the stables to select his steed.   
Stables, he supposed, was rather a silly word for the place. Storage unit seemed more applicable, as their mounts were not exactly biological in nature. The Explodatorium employed slimulacra not only for defence, but for transportation as well. The steed-ulacras were made of thicker slime than their defensive brethren, allowing them to pull the carts. Their sticky, amorphous bodies made it easy for them to pass over any terrain and cling to traitorous pathways, making for safer journeys.  
Plague Knight selected one of the globular creatures and hitched it to his cart, then set off for the Lost City.

The trip generally took a day and a half of travel, and would also need several more hours of trekking on foot to reach the destination proper. Plague Knight couldn’t take his steed-ulacra too far into the molten kingdom as the creature would melt if it became too hot. And hot it would be.  
The Lost City was a huge, ancient metropolis that had been felled by a volcanic eruptions eons ago. Few texts remained from its living days, and those that did provided little information, which made it a high point of interest for archeologists and curio hunters. Excavating the place, however, proved challenging, as it was still ribboned with lava flows and other hazards.   
But that all changed when Mole Knight arrived on the scene. With his specialized armour and pyrokinetic abilities, he was able to drill into the volcanic earth with unparalleled speed and precision, clearing out in weeks what it had taken others to do in years. His mining knowledge was also essential to creating secure shafts and pathways for his team of diggers. Though he was known as a bit of a hardass, no excavator was safer than in his huge claws. 

The outskirts of the Lost City were actually situated quite far away from the actual site. They rested in a natural crater in the earth just on the edge of the frozen portion of The Valley. Not what one would call close to the Stranded Ship, though, which probably kept territory disputes to a minimum. Even so, the proximity to the cooler climate made this an ideal place to park the cart.  
Plague Knight found a safe spot for his transportation and ordered the steed-ulacra to remain there until his return.

“If anything bothers you, heh, give it a good whack!” he told the creature.

It nodded its amorphous head in apparent understanding, though Plague Knight wasn’t sure what level of intelligence it possessed.

Once he was finished, he turned to the winding path into the mines. It was a slightly meandering trail through a forest of fungi and lichens, some as tall as trees. As it lead deeper, cubes of springy green slime were carefully stacked here and there, mined from the depths. Plague Knight wasn’t sure what their purpose here was, though they might have something to do with mobility. Leaping upon them propelled the jumper over gaps and ledges which would have been harder to traverse otherwise. Plague Knight had a fine time bouncing his way deeper and deeper into the cavity, until he reached a patch of lava and a long, fortified rope.

“Hee, this is it…” he muttered. Time to test his climbing skills.

He was just about to take hold of the rope and scuttle down, when there was a shout.

“Oi! Who goes there?!”

Plague Knight turned to see a bascinet-clad knight in red armour shuffling towards him, waving his sword. Plague Knight quickly dodged behind an outcropping of rock and fumbled in his robes for his transmutation potion. He’d updated it a little to fully transform him, clothing and all, so that he could now drink them on the fly. His unfortunate meeting with the Enchantress had forced him to rethink his rather slapdash approach to the practice in the first place. He needed to be prepared for any situation.

Stepping back out from his hiding place, now at full height, Plague Knight greeted the red-armour cheerfully.

“Hello! Heehee! Worry not– I’m just one of your boss’s work pals, haha…”

Upon getting a better look at the figure before him, the red-armour seemed to calm down, lowering his weapon.

“Oh! You’re, ah, Pest Knight, yeah? What business do you have here?”

Plague Knight snickered quietly at his misnaming. He might as well be Pest Knight in the eyes of the other Order members. 

“I am here to speak with Mole Knight on a small matter of business, heehee,” he said, simply, “Can you take me to him..?”

The red-armour considered him, before pointing to the rope Plague Knight had been about to climb.

“Just shimmy down there and ask the next person you see. I’m supposed to be guarding up here.”

“Heh, alright!” called Plague Knight, already heading for the shaft and rolling his eyes. ‘Doing a good job, I see…’

 

Getting down the rope was a little bit harder than anticipated, especially with his added height. Nonetheless, he managed to make it safely to solid ground. As he descended, the faint heat that warmed the above chamber became sweltering. He was down into the mines now, and open lava flows were sure to be nearby. 

“Hello?” he called, “Anybody here, heehee?”

There was a long silence, before the faint thumping of boots. A few moments later, a figure in antique red armour with a brushlike crest on his helmet hopped over a ledge and jogged towards Plague Knight.

“Ho! State your name and purpose!”

“Plague Knight,” replied the not-so-little alchemist, wearily, “I’m here for a chat with your boss.”

“Plague Kni… Oh! You must be one of the Order guys,” said the soldier, “The boss is down in the flows right now. I’ll see if I can get him up here, but he tends to get a bit… focused while he’s digging.”

Plague Knight shrugged, “I’ll just go down and meet him then, hee!”

“Ahh… No, better not. You’re not dressed for it,” said the soldier.

Plague Knight frowned. He hardly saw how a full set of armour served one better than a lighter garment like his cloak. Armour wouldn’t protect you any better from falling into a lava pit, after all. But he supposed their garb might be bespelled or built to withstand the heat. He mentally made a note to prepare his own clothing for when he would eventually have to brave the pits himself. 

What followed was a good hour of waiting while the message was passed from soldier to miner to miner to miner. Plague Knight sat on a dusty mound of earth, fanning himself with his sleeve. He was not looking forward to obtaining the Essence of Ambition.   
After what seemed like an age, there was a rumbling, and then a huge red figure burst out of the pit below them, landing heavily on the turf next to Plague Knight.  
Mole Knight shook the dirt off of himself, then set his armour alight to burn off the last of the grime. When he extinguished himself, he gleamed like a ruby in the dim light. 

“Plague Knight! What are you doing down here?” he growled, “I had no warning of your visit! I’m taking time outta my dig for this! Did the Enchantress put you up to this? She’s always interfering–“

“Hee! Cool off, big guy,” Plague Knight quipped, stifling a giggle, “I’ll keep this short! The Enchantress has nothing to do with this. …Well, mostly.”

Mole Knight planted his claws on his hips -or performed an equivalent action for someone of his proportions- and stared fixedly at Plague Knight.

“What’s going on..?”

“Heh, well, allow me to explain,” replied Plague Knight, folding his fingers together and steeling himself. This needed to be convincing, “I’ve come to ask you a favour.”

Mole Knight harrumphed, clearly unimpressed.

“A favour, huh? Why didn’t you mention anything at the last banquet?”

“Hee! Well, things hadn’t gotten so bad, then, and besides, I didn’t want to alert her to what was going on… You see, I’m in a spot of trouble, Mole Knight, and you’re the only one who can get me out of it, I think, heehee…”

Mole Knight remained silent, allowing Plague Knight to continue, and he decided to pick up the pace. Mole Knight did not like to waste time.

“Heh, simply put, my good Mole, you have something I need. One of your quarries produces a type of gemstone that exudes a purifying light… Is that correct?”

“Light Orbs? Yeah. Down in the Bottomless Quarry. What about’em?”

Plague Knight hid a little twitch of excitement behind a fidget of discomfort.

“I need several to help fend off an invasion of spirits that have recently been terrorizing my labs.”

Mole Knight cocked his head, “Spirits? In your labs? Did you piss off Spectre one too many times?”

“Hee! Possibly,” said Plague Knight, rolling with the suggestion, “I don’t know where they came from, exactly, but they’re wreaking havoc. My minions can barely sleep, let alone work with the ghouls infesting the halls. I need Light Orbs to banish them, and you’re the only person I know of who might have access to them… Would you be willing to part with, oh, say… twenty..?”

Mole Knight tapped a claw against his armour with a soft tink-tink-tink, considering him. Then he shrugged.

“Well, alright. It’s a little last minute, but just put an order in the books and…”

“Heh– well, you see, that’s the trouble… I don’t want this on the books.”

This, just as predicted, got Mole Knight’s dander up. He leaned in close to Plague Knight, suspiciously. 

“Everything goes on the books. What are you up to, birdman?”

Plague Knight giggled and shied away from Mole Knight’s bulbous form, “Hee! Nothing devious, I assure you! For once, I’m being perfectly candid… well, to you, at least.”

He tried not to giggle at the obvious lie, before continuing, “I know very well that all imports, exports and collaborations between Order members must be noted down and reported… but I fear doing so in this case will impede our… progress.”

He put careful emphasis on the last word, and Mole Knight took the bait.

“Progress? Whadya mean?”

“Well…” Plague Knight twiddled his fingers, “Because of the spirit infestation, my minions and I have gotten a little… behind on certain projects. We thought we could deal with them on our own, but it seems we can’t, heehee..! I am confident we can catch up when the shades are gone, but putting down the required counter-measures in the books will naturally cause the Enchantress to look into this… and put our work on hold while she does so.”

Plague Knight sighed and fiddled with his staff, “If you could… clandestinely slip me a few Light Orbs under the counter as it were, we can avoid all delays and get right back on track immediately. No one need be any the wiser…”

Mole Knight was silent, deliberating. Plague Knight was fairly sure he could win this; after all, Mole Knight was not the Essence of Rule Following. But he knew he needed to push it a little farther… 

“…Look,” he grumbled, “The only reason I’m doing it this way is because…”

He made a show of straightening his robes self-consciously, “I… ugh. I… admire your work ethic. The way you run the Lost City is, quite frankly… sigh… extremely impressive, heehee…”

He spoke in a reluctant, grudging tone, shifting his body to the side to appear highly uncomfortable. He had to give the impression that he was admitting an embarrassing truth rather than outright trying to flatter the other Knight. 

“I wanted to make progress… Much like you do… E-even at the cost of a few broken rules. Heh… if you can’t help me, I’ll figure out another way, but…”

“Hmm…” Mole Knights rumbling noise of thought interrupted Plague Knight’s plea, “…Far be it for me to impede progress. You shoulda done something earlier, mind, before things got outta hand– that’s how we run things down here, see…”

The pride in Mole Knight’s voice told Plague Knight he’d sealed the deal, and the not-so-little alchemist resisted the temptation to rub his hands together with glee.

“…gotta put the necessary precautions in place before you get to any of the heavy digging. A stitch in time saves nine, as they say. But a few mistakes are understandable for a kid…”

Plague Knight flinched, “Heh– I-I’m not a kid––“

“If you’re under twenty-five, you’re still a kid.”

“I’m––“

“Anyway! Let’s see about getting you those Light Orbs…”

 

An hour or so later, Plague Knight was heading back to his cart with a sack of twenty-five glowing orbs over his shoulder. The extra orbs, coupled with the almost fond farewell he’d received as he left made Plague Knight worry that he’d accidentally befriended the other Knight. The bulbous burrower had spent much of the acquisition time giving Plague Knight advice on how to run the Explodatorium. His greatest tip was to ‘stop clowning around so much’. 

“Heehee, oh dear. It seems I’ve picked up a mentor…” he muttered to himself as he tramped up the trail to the edge of the crater, where his steed-ulacrum was waiting placidly for his return. 

 

By the time Plague Knight returned to the Explodatorium, he was quite tired. He took a moment to rest and imbibe some vitamin stimulants before going to the catapult and carrying his precious bounty to the Potionarium.  
Upon arrival, Plague Knight found Mona’s chamber empty. He hopped on the special floorboard and deployed her lever, pulling it sharply and summoning the Torque Lifts. He knew he was supposed to do something else to alert her to his presence, but he didn’t want to have to rely on Mona to get in and out of the lab. It felt childish to have to hang onto her skirts all the time. He would conquer the Lifts… or throw up trying.   
He did find himself getting very dizzy as he hopped onto the platform and kicked off against the groove in the wood to send himself spiralling downwards. The heavy sack of Light Orbs did not help, and it took him a few tries to get all the way down. When he did manage it, he had to stumble around for a few moments to recapture his balance. 

“Hee…hee… sorry, Mona, just getting the hang of..?”

He looked around in surprise. Mona wasn’t at her desk. Upon a quick circuit of the Potionarium, he discovered she wasn’t anywhere else, either.

“Hee… guess she’s looking for the Phlegmatic Praise…” he mumbled to himself.

‘Or at the Lich Yard,’ murmured the nasty voice in the back of his mind.

Feeling disappointed, Plague Knight heaved his sack of Light Orbs to Mona’s cauldron and deposited them inside for safe-keeping. When he turned back to the lab, he felt a sensation of aimlessness overtake him. It was silly, he thought, to feel so lost without his partner. But he’d wanted to build the anti-Shadow weapon with her, even if being in proximity to her caused him to become a sweating, babbling mess these days.   
He supposed he should start on it and have something to work with for when she got back, yet he could already feel a sense of dissatisfaction and a lack of motivation. He shuffled about the lab, taking lacklustre notes here and vaguely looking over ingredients there. Eventually he gave up. There was no point in forcing himself.   
But with nothing to do, Plague Knight found himself full of restless energy. He couldn’t wait for Mona to come back, but he couldn’t start without her, either. 

Eventually, he found himself leaving the lab through one of the exit tunnels. He had half-formed ideas of going to find his partner, while the more rational side of his head just told him to take a walk. He picked his way through the forest outside, weaving between the trees and the open fields. He circled around, taking a long path until he approached the landing site for one of Percy’s catapults.  
All of the sudden, Plague Knight noticed a sort of scuffle coming from up ahead. He could hear a babble of fearful voices, interspersed with the barked interrogations of a commanding one. Coming closer, Plague Knight could make out several of his own minions through the trees.   
He immediately hastened forward, heart rate increasing. What was going on?

“For the last time! What are the intentions of your superior?!”

“W-we don’t know! Please, we don’t know, we don’t know!”

“We don’t even know what the Ultimate Potion does!”

“Please don’t kill us!”

Breaking furtively through the underbrush, Plague Knight came upon a scene of intimidation. Five of his minions were cowering against a pair of tree trunks, beset by a small knight in jet black armour. The knight was poking the blade of a wickedly sharp shovel towards them as he spoke, obviously intending to do harm if they did not comply to his demands. The ground was covered in blast marks, indicating there had been a struggle. Of course his minions had failed spectacularly…  
Plague Knight quietly reached into his robes, wrapping his fingers around an explosive. Stealth was key, here, to get the drop on his adversary. Unfortunately, his minions weren’t quite on the same page.

“Oh, look! It’s boss!”

“Boss!!”

“Oh, boss, you’ve come to save us! Hooray!!!”

Plague Knight groaned as the darkly-armoured knight whipped around.

“Plague Knight! So, we meet at last…”

“Hee! I’m sorry, who are you..?” Plague Knight cocked his head at the knight, curiously, taking in his appearance.

He was of short stature, even smaller than Plague Knight himself. To make up for this, his armour was menacingly elaborate. Its most striking details were its huge, finned pauldrons and the pair of sharp red horns jutting out of the helmet. Plague Knight frowned as the Knight’s silhouette brought to mind a hazy memory from long ago…

“Heehee… Hang on a moment. …Shovel Knight? Hee! Is this where you’ve been all this time? Heeheehee! I must say, this is an interesting take on the midlife crisis! Black really brings out your––“

“I am Black Knight,” interrupted the Knight, his voice cracking sharply. There was a bite of ferocity in his tone that suggested a great umbrage taken with the misidentification.

Plague Knight immediately and gleefully leapt on this.

“Heehee! My mistake! Those horns are awfully recognizable, you know? Nevertheless, well met, Crack Knight! What are you doing, here?”

“Cease your foolishness,” growled the Knight, still miffed, “I am here to put an end to your nefarious plot against the Enchantress.”

Plague Knight’s heart skipped a beat.

“Heh… What are you talking about?” he asked, quickly.

“Don’t try to play dumb,” said the Black Knight, levelling his blade, “I have found copious evidence of your betrayal. Your minions have been seen frequently in this area, often carrying supplies. You are collecting objects outside of your quadrant. You yourself have been absent from your base of operations on several occasions, with shaky excuses to boot! And now I hear news of an attempt to brew an Ultimate Potion..? You’re up to something, Plague Knight. And if it is in detriment to the Enchantress, your life is forfeit!!”

Plague Knight let out a scornful cackle.

“Hee! Who are you, exactly? I don’t recall a ‘Black Knight’ being part of the Order of No Quarter.”

“Hmph! I serve no person on this earth,” replied the Knight with a contemptuous toss of his head, “But I refuse to let any threaten the Enchantress!”

“Oohhh, heeheehee! I see now! You’re just some delusional fanboy,” giggled Plague Knight, “Leave my minions in peace and begone from here, lest you’d like to face an Order member in direct combat.”

His minions cheered, but to his annoyance, the Black Knight seemed not to think much of his threat.

“I know not what you are after,” he said, “But your actions are suspect. A subordinate in search of ultimate power is no subordinate at all. Cease your machinations… or answer to me.”

“Get away from my minions,” said Plague Knight, dangerously, “Heh, I’ll give you on the count of three. One… two…”

Suddenly, the Knight leapt into the air, shovel raised. Plague Knight just managed to dodge out of the way before the blade impaled the soil where he had stood.

“Hee! Get out of here,” Plague Knight shouted at his minions, who quickly complied while their captor was busy.

The Black Knight tore his shovel out of the earth and swung it hard at Plague Knight. The little alchemist dodged out of the way again and tossed an explosive in his wake. Unfortunately, the Knight was quick on the uptake as well, and batted the bomb back at its owner.  
Plague Knight pulled his hood low to protect himself from the detonation. This, unfortunately, left him vulnerable to the Black Knight, who swung his shovel hard at his legs. Plague Knight flipped onto his back, but rolled out of the way before the Knight could skewer him with his weapon.

He leapt to his feet and made to put as much distance between the Knight and himself as he could. He let off a bomb burst, flying into the air and grabbing onto a tree branch. After clambering onto his perch, he rained a trio of explosives down on the Knight, who was buffeted back by the blasts. 

“Heehee! Try and get me now!” Plague Knight taunted.

Knights such as these used close-combat melee weapons, and armour would make it very tough to climb a tree. Plague Knight was confident in his safety… at least until the Knight hefted his shovel up like a crossbow and fired a volley of bright magenta projectiles at him. Plague Knight swung off his platform to avoid the shots, gripping the branch tightly with both hands.   
He then quickly dropped from the tree, throwing down a burst as he went and soaring over the Knight’s head. He twisted in midair, tossing bombs left and right. The Black Knight was quite adept at reflecting them, but he couldn’t always follow their trajectory. 

Upon landing, Plague Knight immediately lined up another burst, hoping his erratic movement would discourage the Knight’s magical marksmanship. Unfortunately, as he flew into the air again, the Knight instead dug his shovel into the earth and threw up a barrage of earth-clods. Said clods began to glow with pink energy as they reached Plague Knight, and hit him like a hail of tiny cannonballs.   
Plague Knight was thrown back against the trunk of a tree, gasping painfully as the wind was knocked out of him. He quickly regained his breath and attempted to push off the tree, but the Black Knight moved with inhuman speed and thrust his shovel against his throat. Plague Knight stood pinned against the bark, staring down at his adversary in annoyance.

“I am no pushover,” said the Black Knight, haughtily, “And I will not waver in my duty to protect the Enchantress.”

“Hee… You know… She’s rather cold,” said Plague Knight, “I doubt she’ll return your affections, whatever you do for her…”

Plague Knight felt the cool tip of the shovel press against his windpipe.

“I know little of your plans,” he said, “But I intend to look into them. Should I find you or any of your subordinates engaging in suspicious activity… I will slaughter them without hesitation.”

Plague Knight giggled, “Ooh! Big words for such a small Knight. Well, I have a few words for you, too!”

Said words were in the Old Old language. Before the Black Knight could react, he was surrounded by the glass confines of a vat. As his arms were restrained, he dropped his shovel, and Plague Knight was able to duck away from the tree and run.

“HEE HEE HEE!! Nice playing with you! See you never!”

As soon as Plague Knight had cleared the trees, he was mobbed by the five minions he’d freed earlier.

“Boss!”

“Oh, boss!!”

“Are you hurt?”

“We saw that fight– That was awesome!!!”

“Just when it seemed darkest you pulled through! Hooray!!!!”

Plague Knight waved them off in annoyance, “Hee! Remember what I said about personal space?!”

The minions quickly scuttled to a respectable distance, but continued to babble about how cool the fight had been. There was a little more appreciation for the Black Knight’s moves than Plague Knight would like, but all in all, he found their chatter rather amusing.

 

Once he was back at the lab, Plague Knight instructed his five minions to spread word to the others of what had happened.

“Hee! If this ‘Black Knight’ is spotted, avoid him at all costs! I doubt he knows as much as he professes to, but we can’t afford anything getting out! Every one of you, button your lips, understand? Stealth is priority! Do not disappoint me, heehee!!!”

After sending the group off, Plague Knight moved to the labs and retrieved one of the Light Orbs from his sack. He was full of renewed vigour now. While he didn’t think the Black Knight posed much of a threat, it was always best to prepare for any eventuality. It would be no good if he ignored a possible danger to the plan and payed for it later. Obtaining the ingredients in a timely manner now was more imperative than ever.   
Plague Knight sent one last group of minions to the Explodatorium to warn his other staff, before getting to work. He slaved over the Light Orbs into the evening and over the next day, breaking only to meet certain base needs.   
He was so engrossed with his work that he barely noticed the flurry of activity and whispers from the minions around him, as well as their excited whispers. A voice he recognized finally broke the spell, however.

“Plague Knight…”

The little alchemist looked up to behold a sight he was most unready for. Limping towards him through a gaggle of minions, seemingly having come in from one of the escape routes, was Mona. She was supporting… something over her shoulder. Plague Knight found himself having trouble processing it. It was a pale, greenish-white colour with a round, potbellied physique, which was coupled bizarrely with long, spindly limbs. It had black, beady eyes and spider-like, three-fingered hands. The closest thing Plague Knight could think to compare it to was an overgrown toadvolt… But toadvolts didn’t have huge, tuba-shaped growths sprouting from the back of their skulls. The… thing, whatever it was, seemed to be having trouble breathing. Mona was supporting it as best she could, but she was in no better condition.

“Mona! What–“

“Please, help him,” Mona’s voice was strained, “I’m fine. Just– He needs help.”

Mona heaved the creature into the middle of the room, raised one arm laboriously and snapped her fingers. An operating table all the way from the Explodatorium appeared there, and she hastily helped her charge onto it. It was so large that its legs and arms hung over the sides. Plague Knight hastened over.

“Mona, what on earth–?!”

“I’ll explain after,” she said, sinking into her chair and letting her head fall back on her shoulders, breathing heavily. 

An electric charge of anxiety seized Plague Knight’s guts at the sight of her looking so distressed. On closer inspection, her clothing was filthy, her hair dishevelled, and her skin so pale it looked yellow. But her worry for the… thing she’d brought back seemed to trump her own discomfort, and Plague Knight knew that seeing to that problem first would help her more than trying to fuss.  
He scuttled over to the table and used his staff to conjure a vat. Climbing on top, Plague Knight was able to get a better look at the creature.

“Heh, hello,” he said, “Ah, can you hear me?”

“H… hello…” the creature’s voice came out in a rattling gasp. 

Something was definitely wrong.

“Heh, alright, ah, I’m going to take a look at…”

“His throat,” said Mona, from behind him, “I had to do something… bad… You need to check his throat and his bell.”

“His be–? Oh, yes! Heeheehee…”

Plague Knight leaned farther over the creature, “Hee! Open wide!”

It complied, opening its maw to reveal a toothless cavern of a throat. Plague Knight peered inside, noting the harsh rawness there. Hopping off his vat and pushing it around to the other side of the creature allowed him to get a look inside its bell, which appeared to be afflicted the same way. Plague Knight immediately surmised that the two areas were connected. 

“Hmm… acute inflammation,” he muttered, stroking his mask, “What did you do to it, Mona?”

“Him,” she corrected Plague Knight, irritably, “I… I kind of made him swallow fireballs. Basically.”

“Oh dear… What were you up to, hee? Not torture, it seems, based on your reaction, but–“

“Don’t,” said Mona, sharply, “Just… fix him.”

Plague Knight noted a heavy note of guilt in her voice. It seemed she already felt bad enough about what she’d done… but why had she done it..?  
Wasting no more time, Plague Knight quickly sent his minions off for ingredients. When they returned, Plague Knight set to mixing a medicinal paste of a variety of demulcent herbs, honey, and citrus. When he was finished, he carefully brought the concoction over to the creature.

“Heh, alright! I want you to take a big gulp of this, swish it around your mouth, and then swallow it. Can you do that?”

The creature nodded feebly, and Plague Knight hopped down and wound the crank on the bottom of the operating table, which caused it to tilt downwards. This made the creature slide to the floor with a bump, but it propped him up so that Plague Knight could help feed him the sweet, viscous liquid. He would have to be careful doing so, however. As he’d inspected the creature, he’d noted signs of malnutrition and even starvation. Having him swallow too much might cause him to be ill, which would only irritate his throat further.

“Now, about your bell,” said Plague Knight, waving a pair of minions over to help him heave the creature back onto the table and crank it back up, “I’m going to have to apply this topically…”

He quickly fashioned a swab out of a large stir-stick and a hand towel and began to smear his concoction over the inside of the irritated organ. The creature twitched a bit as he did so in discomfort, but Plague Knight ignored him.  
When everything was finally over, Plague Knight stood back and nodded.

“Heh. Alright. That should keep him stable for now. Once he’s sat for a while, I can feed him some stronger stuff… but Mona, what… what happened..?” he turned back to his partner, who was still collapsed in her chair, “What… is he?”

“I don’t know. His name is Oolong,” she replied, wearily, “I… I was going to get the Phlegmatic Praise. I got it alright, but I didn’t want to teleport back in case I disturbed you. I went to head back on foot, but I…”

Mona ran a hand over her face and groaned, “I took a wrong step. And… I fell.”

Plague Knight blinked, “You– You fell?”

“Down into one of those pits. You know…”

The seemingly bottomless, dark pits that dotted the landscape of The Valley. The chance of returning alive from one was… well. No chance at all. And yet, here was Mona, safe and sound…

“…I managed to float before I broke my neck, but getting out was a problem.”

“Hee! Why didn’t you teleport?! You seriously can’t say you were still worried about disturbing me?!”

“No– Well, at first my ankle hurt too much. I would have gotten out however I could. Except… then I met Oolong.”

Mona’s eyes slid to the creature, and Plague Knight noted a softness in them. He felt a little flutter of jealousy in his chest, but shoved it down quickly. Silly. Stupid.

“He… he’d been living down there. Eating the moss that grows on the walls. It’s damp enough that there’s water, too. He says that he’s a bard… he came here from far away to play for kings and nobles. It’s his dream, you know..? Unfortunately, he just happened to show up when King Knight came into power…” Mona’s eyes narrowed, “The gilded goon wasn’t impressed… and he had Oolong thrown into a pit. He doesn’t know how he survived. But he’s been down there ever since.”

She was quiet for a few moments, before continuing, “When he heard me he was frightened, at first, but when he realized I was upset, he… he started to play for me…”

The softness in her eyes intensified, and her fingers wound themselves into the fabric of her skirt, “He makes beautiful music, Plague Knight… it’s incredible. How King Knight could have… could have done something so awful..!”

Anger flared into her voice and her fingers clutched at her skirts, tightly, “I knew I had to get him out of there. But he’s too large and slow to teleport with… I couldn’t perform the steps while holding him securely enough. So… I came up with an alternative solution. I… I noticed his mouth and bell were connected… so I…”

Mona went on to explain how she’d created an alchemical compound that, when ingested, would expel heat from the nearest available orifice. She’d fed the brew to Oolong, causing him to belch hot air out of his bell. Using her a summoned tarp and as much of her magic as she could muster, she’d created something of a makeshift hot air balloon to float them out of the pit.   
The story was miraculous, and more than a little ridiculous, prompting Plague Knight to stifle a few snickers. And yet, here they were… 

“…but it… the compound was extremely taxing on him, and he was already so weak… I managed to get him here, but…” Mona glanced over to Plague Knight, looking him straight in the eyes, “You… You can save him, can’t you..? He’s not… not going to…”

“Heh, h-he’ll be fine,” said Plague Knight, trying to ignore the electric tingle shooting up his spine at her gaze, “I’m going to see if I can treat him a little further, now…”

 

An hour and a half and several potions later, Oolong was in stable condition. A gaggle of minions loaded him into a wheelbarrow and carted him off to the sleeping quarters to give him warmth and quiet. Now only Mona and Plague Knight were left in the lab together.

“Phew…” Plague Knight dried off his hands after having washed up, then approached Mona, who was still sitting in her chair, “Hee! Your new friend will be fine. A steady diet of vitamin rich foods and supplements ought to have him in peak condition in… mm… perhaps a month’s time. I’m afraid I can’t do much about the pallor without exposing him to sunlight, but that seems like a bad idea, somehow, heeheehee…”

He could feel Mona’s lidded gaze on him.

“You… I…” he glanced up as Mona tried to speak. She seemed to be hesitating. There was a faint flush in her cheeks, which boded well; she’d been so pale earlier… “You… thanks. For treating him.”

She looked away, hiding her face with her hair, “It… um.”

“Hee! No job is too difficult for the genius medical mind of Plague Knight!” he gave a sweeping gesture, showing off jokingly.

He heard Mona stifle a giggle and reflexively tried to hold back a wobbly smile of his own before remembering she couldn’t see it anyway. 

“Uh, Plague Knight…”

She was still hiding behind a curtain of purple-blue, but she addressed him slowly, “Would you mind… looking me over, too..?”

Plague Knight gulped.

“I– Eheh– Oh, you’re, uhhh, injured as well! Heehee! Gosh, I… where are my manners? I mean–”

Mona stood up and went to sit down on the operating table. Plague Knight beetled after her, wringing his hands nervously, noting the limp she’d displayed before still affected her. 

“I fell in the hole because I stepped badly and twisted my ankle…” she muttered, “Can you… take a look at it..?”

“Heh, of course!”

Mona lay down properly on the slab of metal, and Plague Knight hopped back up on his vat to inspect her.

“Now, I’ll just need these boots off–“

No sooner than he’d requested it, there was a sharp snap, and Mona’s boots disappeared. So did her leggings. With a swift motion, she hiked her skirts over her knees, revealing a rather impressive amount of soft green leg. Plague Knight prudently kept his eyeballs glued to the stretch below her knees, though this proved difficult as she suddenly shifted her position, sliding down the slab a little.

“I summoned a quick mending potion down in the hole,” she said, quietly, “But I… I still think it’s…”

Plague Knight took a careful look at her ankles. One of them did seem slightly swollen. Feeling it carefully and moving it back and forth, it actually seemed to be in fairly good condition, apart from the inflammation. 

“Heh, it looks like the mender is doing its job. The swelling will remain while it works… I’ll put some ice on it, but it ought to clear up in the next few hours, or so.”

“Oh… right.”

Mona summoned the ice herself, then handed it to Plague Knight.

“Here…” she said, softly.

He took it, uncertainly, wondering why she didn’t simply do it herself, then carefully rested her ankle on it.   
A very awkward silence followed as Plague Knight shuffled, unsure of what to do with himself, and Mona fidgeted. 

“I. Well. Guess I’ll just. Sit here, then,” said Mona, suddenly, her voice breaking slightly, “You should… go back to doing whatever you were doing.”

“Oh… Hee! Yes, I’ll– Ah, you just– heehee!”

Plague Knight quickly scampered back to his table before he could say something stupid. He was acutely aware of Mona’s presence behind him as he worked, which made things difficult, but he managed to make some progress on his design anyway.   
There had been an odd tension between them, just then. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. He’d felt like he could sweat an ocean, yet somehow, he thought he’d gotten the same vibe from Mona as well. Something about the look in her eyes, her fumbling fingers, the flush in her cheeks… But why? It couldn’t be the same thing he had been feeling. Mona was most likely uncomfortable from her injury and his invasive contact. After all, his hands had been all over her legs… well, mostly her ankles. But still.   
He pressed his fingers together guiltily, remembering the hiding-place incident. A small part of him relished the chance to be so close to those two, inexplicably attractive limbs again. The rest of him ganged up to beat this part of him to a pulp. 

‘You creep– you absolute creep…’

 

The next day, Mona’s ankle was indeed better. She was able to leave for the showers and get herself cleaned up. Meanwhile, Oolong seemed to be in good health, too. 

“Oh, hello!” he cried in a much less wheezy voice as Plague Knight entered the sleeping quarters to check on him, “Doctor man! Thank for helping poor Oolong! Nice lady help me out of hole with magics! Magics hurts Oolong some, but Oolong just happy to be out of hole!”

“Heh, yes, yes,” said Plague Knight, waving at the bouncing creature, “It seems my cure did the trick, heehee! Now, I’d like you to drink this, and see if you can stomach these…”

He spent half an hour attempting to get Oolong to eat, but the excitable creature continued to babble on about their miraculous escape. Plague Knight attempted to explain a few things, most importantly his actual name, but Oolong didn’t seem to be all there. This wasn’t surprising, given the life he’d been forced to live for the past few years, but Plague Knight found it a little disconcerting to be referred to as ‘Doctor Knight’. He’d never exactly reached the post, after all…

“Oolong know nice musics! Doctor Knight wants to hear..? As thank for helping poor Oolong!”

Plague Knight was a little taken aback by the sudden request.

“Heh, I think you should rest your throat a little longer, I–“

Before he could finish, Oolong reached his spindly fingers up to manipulate the holes in his bell. As he did so, he closed his eyes and breathed in a strange, irregular pattern. These actions, in combination, caused an impressive array of sounds to issue forth from the strange organ attached to his head. Almost like the Bard’s magical lute, it produced far more than seemed possible for a single instrument. Plague Knight thought he recognized the melody as something he’d often heard in The Village. When Oolong stopped playing, Plague Knight clapped politely.

“Heehee! Well done, now––“

“Oolong write many nice musics for Doctor Knight and Doctor Lady! Oolong sooooooo thank you for helps!”

“Heh, that’s, uhhh, thank you, I–”

“Oolong, you’re going to hurt yourself. Please calm down.”

Plague Knight whirled around to see Mona approaching, not-smiling fiercely. Her tone was warm and affectionate. It seemed she’d quickly developed a a soft spot for the bizarre bard during their short time together.

“I’d love to hear your songs, when you write them,” she said, “If you need a quill and some paper, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Doctor Lady! Oolong write song for you first!”

Mona continued to pacify the creature, before finally managing to escape to the lab.

“Heh… I’m going to guess he’s a permanent member of the team, now?” said Plague Knight, when they were finally alone.

“Oh, yes.”

Mona smirked down at him, brightly, and he quickly fumbled over the table for his notes.

“Heehee! Right! Well! …A-anyway, look! I got the Light Orbs! And I think I know how to put them to good use…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! As of now I've officially finished the complete fic save for the epilogue! That means chapters are going to flow faster again, thank goodness. Of course there are only about two chapters left, but... well! Anyway! Thanks again for all the comments! It's always a blast to hear what you guys think, and it helps shove my procrastinating ass into writing more chapters. Speaking of which, Insecuriosity, your hunch about Spectre Knight is correct! Glad someone picked up on that, heh...
> 
> Anyway, thats enough rambling for me. Onto the final chapters..! Hope they're satisfying. Thanks again for reading! --T.S.


	21. Out of the Shadows

Designing the Light Bombs, as they were dubbed, was a delicate process. The two alchemists had to carefully consider their battlefield and how to navigate it, first. Since the Shadows lived in and around the Tower of Fate, this would definitely have to be a stealth operation.   
Bombs were not stealthy by nature, but they were Plague Knight’s weapon of choice. He didn’t have enough time to master a different form of weaponry, he didn’t trust any of the minions to go into battle for him, and Mona wasn’t a fighter. Despite this last point, however, she still insisted on coming along.

“I’ve got magic, and I can teleport. If we need to make a hasty escape, I can get you out of there immediately, or summon something to help. I’m not letting you go in there alone. It’s… we’re… I… We’re together in the fight. Okay?”

He decided not to argue with her. Apart from the fiery look in her eyes as she spoke, Plague Knight had to concede that her magical abilities would probably be helpful in case of emergency. 

So they were building bombs. Bombs, moreover, that had to be designed for stealth. They simply couldn’t risk Tower guards hearing faint booms and deciding to check it out, no matter what the likelihood was.   
Creating a bomb that wasn’t loud when it detonated was a challenge indeed. The very nature of an explosive force meant that it had to create a certain amount of noise.   
This particular hurdle puzzled them for a while, until it was Mona who realized that the bomb might not need to explode, exactly– just burst.

“Throwing an egg at something doesn’t make a very loud noise, but the egg gets everywhere. What if we build it something like that?”

Plague Knight leapt on the idea. As they worked through it, he suggested an improvement on the egg-like design. A soft outer casing that burst open, like a bubble or pustule, that would allow the inside substance a better radius of damage, unhindered by a solid shell.   
Mona countered, saying the bombs would be extremely difficult to transport and handle without accidentally popping them… unless they were stored in something solid beforehand.  
Eventually, the finalized design for the casing was a firm outer shell attached to a wick. Instead of being used to detonate the bomb itself, the wick would lead to the breakdown of the shell after it was launched, revealing the soft, bubble-like skin beneath in midair. The now-liberated sack of Light Orb extract would remain intact just long enough to then burst on contact with the enemy, splashing its contents all over it and doing damage. Perfect!  
The soft inner layer was easy enough to construct with a light polymer substance, but the hardier outer covering was a little trickier. Mona set to puzzling out how to cause it to disintegrate via fuse, while Plague Knight set his sights on creating a liquid from the Light Orbs.  
They only had twenty-five to work with, so Plague Knight would have to be careful about how much he used in testing.   
He discovered that, if powdered and distilled, the Orbs could produce a syrupy, glowing liquid with the same properties as its solid incarnation. After some very delicate fiddling, he was able to fill his polymer sacks with the stuff without damaging the sacks or contaminating the liquid. Satisfied, he went to see how Mona was doing.

“…I think I’ve almost got it…” she murmured, as he approached.

She was sitting at her desk, poring over pages of notes and half-finished prototypes, looking exhausted. They had been working for some time with minimal breaks, as usual.

“I just… I have a few ideas, but none of them are quite… All of these are bulky or risky… I need something... perfect…” 

“Hee… perhaps sleeping on it might do the trick…” Plague Knight suggested, gently.

Mona looked up at him, before smirking, wanly, “You..? Telling me to sleep? Heh. That’s new.”

“Heh, I’ll sleep with you, if that helps,” he offered.

Mona’s eyes widened and she guffawed, her cheeks colouring up. Plague Knight suddenly realized what he’d said. He was so tired himself that he hadn’t even thought about the way he’d phrased it.

“I-I mean– I’ll sleep too! Hee! Heeheehee!! I’ll sleep as well, is what I meant! I didn’t mean– I–”

“Relax. I know what you meant,” said Mona, with a sigh, “You’ve got a point, though. Focusing too hard can be just as detrimental as being distracted.”

She let out a huge yawn and stood up, stretching and producing a few cracks.

“Ugh. Yeah. Definitely time to sleep. How’s work on your end?”

“Hee! All’s well! Once you’re finished those shells, we can plan an entrance and battle strategy…”

“Great. Well… I’ll see you later, Plague Knight…”

“Heh, sleep well!”

Plague Knight let her slink off while he himself made for the minion barracks. As he went, he suddenly realized he’d never seen where she slept before. She clearly didn’t sleep with the minions, as there were no beds built in her size, and he’d never seen her there. Did she have her own secret room, just as he did..?  
It was these thoughts that carried him into oblivion that evening, and a faint inkling of the possibility remained in his mind as he awoke the next morning.  
He’d woken fairly early, it seemed. All the minions were just trooping off around him, smoothing their uniforms and adjusting their masks. Plague Knight followed them into the labs, and made for Mona’s workstation. She was not there, however.  
He supposed she was either above in her back room, entertaining bar-goers, or still in bed. Either way, Plague Knight decided to have a look at her notes to see whether he could offer any solutions to her problem.

Her handwriting was more cramped than usual, and almost written in a different language. Her shorthand was nearly code-like, making it a little difficult for Plague Knight to decipher. Many of her designs had little criticisms written next to them, surrounded by harsh black circles. 

’too fragile’

‘too cumbersome’

‘not fast enough…’

On the final page, there was a small, underlined passage that caught Plague Knight’s eye.

‘1 satfat form frag’ psbl. ask him on visit’

Plague Knight’s stomach lurched. ‘Ask him on visit’? Who was ‘him’? Unless–!  
He dropped the paper and stumbled back, clutching at his chest.   
Finding out about Mona making secret trips to the Lich Yard from Spectre Knight was one thing, but discovering clear confirmation of it in her own handwriting..? What a terrible surprise… he suddenly felt rather short of breath. 

‘Calm down, you’re overreacting,’ said the sane part of his psyche, bracingly, ‘You already knew about the trips. This isn’t anything new. And it most certainly isn’t any sort of proof that Mona feels… that way about him.”

“Hee! But she already trusts him enough to ask him about a complicated alchemical process! And he’s not even an alchemist! Why wouldn’t she go to me for help instead? Why else would she ask him, unless–“

“No, absolutely not. I won’t even let you bomb-burst to such a conclusion. You’re being irrational. If you put a ridiculous connection like that in a scientific paper, you’d be laughed out of academia.’

‘Since when have we been a part of academia?! MONA’S VISITING SPECTRE KNIGHT AND I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I–‘

“Um, Plague Knight?”

Plague Knight was shaken out of his thoughts by a soft voice from behind him. He spun around to find the Magicist standing there, blinking at him with her pea-green eyes.

“Heh, oh, Magicist,” Plague Knight struggled to compose himself, “Hee– What is it?”

“Uhm, uh, are you okay..?” she asked, tilting her head slowly, “You seem… troubled…”

Plague Knight shuffled away from the desk, guiltily, “Heehee! I’m fine! Just invigorated by this new challenge! Did you want something from me, or did you decide coming over here to interrupt my work would be a nice little jaunt?”

The Magicist blinked slowly at him, seemingly missing his rather snappish tone, “Uh… oh yes, ah, I have something for you… Would you please come and look..?”

It was Plague Knight’s turn to cock his head in curiosity.

“I… oh. Heh, yes! I’ll come look.”

The Magicist led him out of the main lab and to the neighbouring area, where her station was. As they entered, Plague Knight could hear music quietly playing from the far end of the room.  
This was where Oolong had taken up residence, and it seemed the bizarre bard was practicing his repertoire. Plague Knight could just make out the faint, hesitant strains of a melancholy waltz, before a clink from the Magicist’s direction caught his attention.

“Um, here we are,” said the Magicist, handing him a small, angular bottle full of bright red liquid, “This is a tonic… good..?”

“Heh… thank you…” Plague Knight took the bottle, glanced from it to the Magicist, and waited, before prompting, “…What does it do?”

“…Oh, yes! Well, it’s a temporary stimulant and slow-acting mender of sorts,” she explained, “Upon drinking it, your endurance will increase, and, ah… Your body will be able to endure more hits than it normally would. The mending agent will act as soon as you imbibe, so that you’ll be directly healed even as you take damage… Basically… you’ll have the constitution of someone twice your size. Temporarily.”

Plague Knight blinked in surprise. That was actually quite useful. Due to her spacey demeanour, Plague Knight kept forgetting the Magicist was in fact an accomplished potioneer and magic-user. 

“Just drink some before you go into battle, and you’ll last longer… the effects stack per dose, and recovery time after your energy is fully depleted will increase… But, uh, despite that, the effects won’t remain after defeat. They won’t increase your strength or speed, either. Is that okay..?”

“Hee! Okay? It’s marvellous! Exactly what I need for the oncoming mission, heeheehee! Excellent work, Magicist!”

The Magicist smiled serenely and bowed low.

“Just, uh, leave it up to me, Plague Knight. It’s what a Magicist does…”

“Ho ho! What’s going on over here?”

Plague Knight winced at the clip-clopping of hooves as Percy trotted over curiously.

“…Hello Percy,” he sighed, as the Equine came to a stop next to them, looking between the short alchemist and the willowy magic-user.

“What’s that you’ve got there, Plague Knight?”

“Heh. I’m afraid you missed the explanation. The Magicist is far too busy to––“

“Oh, that’s alright. I can explain again. Um…”

The Magicist launched into a second description of the brilliant brew, and Plague Knight rolled his eyes. He couldn’t tell if Percy was actually listening to her, or admiring the way the lights at her station reflected off her shiny golden hair. 

“How ingenious!” cried Percy as the Magicist finished speaking, “A boon to our noble endeavour! You are as lovely as you are inventive, my lady!”

Plague Knight rolled his eyes harder, ‘You got that backwards, hay-brain…’

Unfortunately, before he could scuttle away, Percy clapped a hoof on his shoulder.

“Plague Knight, old friend! You’ve been in and out like a Cat! Doesn’t it ever tire you to rush around so?”

Plague Knight ducked out from under the unpleasant touch and turned around reluctantly.

“Hee! I like rushing around.”

“Oh, stay a while, won’t you? We haven’t talked in an age!” cried Percy, jovially, “Magicist, will you join us?”

“Oh, um, no,” said the Magicist regretfully, bowing again, “I have to get back to adjusting the tonics… Plague Knight seems to be pleased with them, so, uh, I should really start making a stock…”

“Thank you, Magicist…” said Plague Knight, waving to her, “Heh, Percy, why don’t you go with her and…”

“Heh, actually, this is perfect,” said Percy in a low voice, watching the Magicist sweep back to her station, “I’ve been wanting to ask about… you and her.”

Plague Knight cocked his head in confusion, “Aheh… what?”

“How’ve you… been getting on?”

Plague Knight stared at the Equine, who was now leaning down to glance at him expectantly out of one large brown eye.

“I… We’re getting on fine, Percy…” he replied, slowly.

Why was Percy asking this? He knew the Magicist had been specifically hired to be their woman on the outside. Plague Knight got along with her perfectly well, mainly because she was quiet and -despite her spaciness- a diligent worker. He never had to worry about potion spills or experiments gone wrong from her; the worst she had to offer were frequent misplacements of various objects, and nonsensical jabbering. Compared to the minions, she was a genius-saint. And… she was fairly agreeable in her own way. He had to admit he was fond enough of her to worry about her safety from time to time.   
But wasn’t all that obvious? Plague Knight was vocal about those he disliked. Then again, Percy was still under the impression that they were close friends, so perhaps his judgement of Plague Knight’s behaviours was a little off…

Percy chuckled and winked at him, “Just fine..?”

“…Yes,” said Plague Knight, flatly.

“Hoho! You’re such a secretive man, Plague Knight! I hardly know a thing about you, let alone your love life! But I can tell things are going well, heheh. I’ve seen the way she looks at you…”

Plague Knight was at a complete loss for words, “Percy, sometimes I wonder if that clump of hay in your gut purged the wrong way and got stuck in your brain…” 

Percy’s ears flattened under his hat and he scowled, “Oh for heavens’ sake, Plague Knight! Will you stop bringing that up? If I’m prying too much, you can just say so!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…”

Luckily, Plague Knight was saved from any more of this nightmarish conversation by a sudden flash of blue light. The next moment, Mona was towering over him, wobbling. She nearly plummeted onto him face-first, but Percy, who’d initially been startled by her appearance, regained his composure and reached out to steady her.

“Whoopsie-daisy! There you go!” he cried, allowing her to balance herself on his arm, “Welcome back, Mona!”

Plague Knight scowled darkly at Percy as Mona righted herself and brushed down her skirts.

“Hi Percy,” she said, fleetingly, before turning to Plague Knight excitedly, “Plague Knight! I’ve figured it out. Let’s head for the labs!”

“I, heh– okay!”

Mona practically dragged him by his chains to her workstation, leaving Percy waving amiably behind.

“Alright, so, I’ve got just the right material to make these shells out of,” said Mona, enthusiastically, “But… it’s not going to be easy to make, so I’m going to have to concentrate. While I’m doing that, can you make the fuses? Just something simple that’ll detonate a small charge at the base…”

“Hee! Of course! I’ll get right… on it…”

A sinking feeling stole over Plague Knight as he remembered where Mona had just come back from. It seemed she’d gotten her answer from Spectre Knight after all…  
Plague Knight wilted and quietly slunk off to start work on the fuses. He could hear Mona humming something under her breath and moving around quite spiritedly. She really was in a great mood. This made him feel even worse. 

 

About two hours later, Mona finally called out to him, rousing him from his gloomy thoughts.

“Are you done with the fuses?”

“Ah, yes! Heh… All done.”

“Great! Come see,” Mona beckoned him over to her desk, where two halves of a faintly green casing were sitting, “This stuff is perfect for the job. When your wick detonates right at the base, this stuff will shatter lightly in a perfect wave, effectively disintegrating and releasing the inner casing without screwing up the trajectory!”

“Heh, wow, that’s great…” replied Plague Knight, unable to keep the listlessness out of his voice.

“Unfortunately, making this stuff used up all the Cipher Coins…” Mona sighed, briskly, planting her hand on her hip, “Which is a shame. But! That’s okay– I’ve been working with the Magicist to track down more of them… We managed to make an alchemagical spell to determine if there are any nearby. According to the spell, there are about four-hundred and twenty units in the Valley area alone! So maybe sometime we could go hunt them down!”

“Heh, maybe…”

The excitement quickly fled from Mona’s face as she noticed Plague Knight’s melancholy. He saw her expression flicker to one of dismay, then go completely flat.

“…Anyway. So. Yeah,” she muttered, quietly, “Guess we’re done. Just have to assemble them now.”

“Indeed…”

 

The rest of the afternoon was very subdued. Mona and Plague Knight worked side by side in silence, finalizing their stock of Light Bombs.   
Plague Knight felt deeply uncomfortable the entire time, hating the silence and the proximity. He just wanted to be alone for a while. It was difficult to concentrate with Mona next to him, and all these thoughts in his head.   
When they were finally finished, Plague Knight promptly excused himself and scuttled off for the catapults. He made his way as quickly as he could to the Explodatorium, his brain buzzing the entire time. 

‘What’s the use? He’s practically won. Heehee… we might as well just scrap the potion here and now.’

‘That’s ridiculous! We’ve come too far to scrap it, and besides, we need it to defeat the Enchantress! To free the good name of alchemy from her vile influence!’

‘Heh… Yes, that’s true. And… Spectre Knight is her right hand man… supposing he has a little accident after she’s defeated? Heehee..! There will be a very lonely lady left in his absence..!’

Plague Knight shook himself out of his musings as he neared his personal chambers, shivering in disgust. Had he really just thought that? The idea of killing Spectre Knight wasn’t especially jarring, but the feeling of tainted glee at the thought of the aftermath… Something seemed very wrong about that. His jealousy was starting to rot him from the inside out.

Locking his door behind him, he flopped onto his bed and crawled over to Bertram’s cage. Bertram squeaked happily at his arrival.

“Oh, Berty..! Heeheehee… I think I’m going mad,” he whined, opening the cage door and allowing the little rodent to scamper into his hands.

Bertram simply sniffed at him, wiggling his fine whiskers, then began to lick his fingers. Plague Knight scratched his back gently with one talon.

“Hee hee… heeheehee…”

Playing with Bertram soothed his nerves a little, and allowed him to reach a sort of calm. In this state, Plague Knight was able to focus on planning the most delicate part of their operation; getting into the Tower of Fate.

From what he’d seen, the Shadows seemed to live in and around the deepest dungeons of the Tower. The surrounding caves would probably contain them as well. Entering through anywhere but the main gates would be tricky, seeing as the surrounding area was nothing but dark water and jagged black rock. Then again, the main entrance itself was rumoured to be a nightmare to traverse on its own. This was the reason the Order members were teleported in by the Enchantress’s personal Wizzems.   
The caves were probably their best bet, and with any luck, they might even lead into the Tower’s dungeons. The fact remained, however, that entering would be highly stealth-based. 

Plague Knight spent the entire night poring over diagrams, maps and notes. 

 

Upon being greeted by the pale light of early tomorrow morning, Plague Knight took off his mask for a moment to rub his eyes and stared down at his notes. Despite his lack of sleep, he was beginning to feel a sense of renewed vigour and equilibrium. His anxiety from the previous night had been quelled by his work. He felt rather stupid about it, now; going to pieces over a little setback like that had never got him anywhere before, and it certainly wouldn’t get him anywhere now.  
Focusing on the task ahead was far more productive. He had a basic strategy for both parts of the upcoming mission; now he needed to cross-check them with Mona. A good entrance, battle, and exit strategy was key to success. And once they had the Single Multitude’s Own Life, the preliminary ingredients would all be in place… then, the Essence collection would begin.

Plague Knight rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He was itching to go confront his fellow Order members. Some more than others, of course.   
Their defeats at his hands would be the icing on the delicious cake… his glorious rampage would end in absolute power, and then he would finally be able to prove himself…  
He’d sweep Mona off her feet yet, rivals be damned! …Literally, perhaps, in this case.

With a new spark of fire in his belly, Plague Knight replaced his mask and rolled up his blueprints. He gave Bertram a parting gift of carrot, then hastened back to the Potionarium as quick as the wind would carry him.

“Heehee! Mona! I’m back!”

Mona glanced up from her table in the back room and regarded him with lidded eyes as he slid down the crumbling brick wall.

“Welcome back…”

“Let’s get to work, heehee! I’ve brought a first draft of our battle plan!”

Mona stood quietly and summoned her lever to let them down into the labs. Plague Knight was a little worried by her silence. He’d probably upset her by being so moody yesterday… 

When they arrived at Mona’s worktable, Plague Knight spread his blueprints across it, and began explaining his notes. Mona listened carefully, her eyes following his fingertips seriously across the papers. 

“Right… so, in summary, we teleport past the Stranded Ship, stow away on a supply boat, sneak out and go looking for Shadows?”

“Hee! That’s pretty much it!”

“Right… Uh, can you tell me more about this supply boat? How does that work?”

“Heh, well, as I understand it, the entire Tower of Fate is crawling with the Enchantress’s soldiers to ward off attacks. Some of them are vermin that feed on the carcasses of slain foes or fellows, but many of them have rather more picky palettes than that, heeheehee…”

“…Ahuh?”

“Heh, er, what I’m trying to say is, they need food. Supply boats stocked with game from the Stranded Ship cross over every few weeks, and rations are passed out.”

“Why use boats? Can’t they bring food in from the upper floors?” asked Mona, quizzically.

“Hee! One would think that would be easier, yes, but the Enchantress likes to keep her underlings… well, under. The entrance and bowels of the Tower are so full of traps and obstacles that transporting food down would be a rigmarole and a half!”

“She can’t just use her Wizzems to teleport it in..?”

“They’re busy doing more important things,” said Plague Knight, waving a hand, “Besides, it’s more about the principle of the thing… The Enchantress wants her soldiers to know their place. They’re fed well enough to keep them fighting, but they aren’t given the fancy stuff that the main Tower inhabitants get, and there’s no magic wasted on them. They’re firmly in the class of lowly guardsmen… and they know it.”

Mona nodded, slowly, “Alright… so, how do we get onto one of these boats, then? Even if it’s shabby on purpose, surely there’s got to be security. The Enchantress is cruel, but she isn’t stupid.”

“Hee! Far from it! But… we happen to have a little advantage she isn’t counting on!”

Plague Knight pointed to his blueprints where there was a small figure drawn next to one of the boats.

“One of the eight minions assigned to the Tower happens to have been a shoreman before joining our ranks…”

“…and he captains one of the boats?” Mona finished, her eyes lighting up.

“Hee! You got it!” Plague Knight cackled, “As soon as I can get word to him, I’ll replace my dear minion at the helm and cruise in without a spot of suspicion! Then I’ll hand off the vessel on the way back, heehee!”

“Right… and how do I get in, exactly?” asked Mona, raising an eyebrow, “I can’t transmute…”

“Hee!” I’m going to pack you up in a crate and stow you away!” said Plague Knight, beaming under his mask.

Mona snorted, “Ooh. I get to ride first-class. Nice.”

“T’will only be a scant hour, my dear partner,” said Plague Knight, assuringly, “Then we’ll be bottling up Shadow blood in no time!”

A flicker of a smirk passed over Mona’s face, “Well, alright. I can’t really think of a better alternative, so I’m game.”

“Hee!”

\- - -

The following weeks were spent in nervous anticipation. Mona withdrew into her notebooks, scribbling away for hours, rarely speaking. Plague Knight eventually returned to the Explodatorium and distracted himself by solving all the problems the minions had caused in his absence. 

When Plague Knight was finally called back to the Tower of Fate for some matter of business, he put on his best air of obsequiousness and completed his tasks without complaint. Luckily, he didn’t actually have to have an audience with the Enchantress this time, but he supposed making an impression of good manners could only help his case.  
After he was finished, he set about meeting with his shoreman minion. It took some time to extract the fellow in question from the depths, but once he was out, he was fully onboard with the plan.

“I hate making those trips, boss! Those boxes are so heavy! Thanks for taking this one for me!”

“Heh– You understand why I’m doing this, and why you mustn’t– Oh, never mind. Hold out your arm, now! I need some of your blood, heeheehee!”

 

Now with his minion’s essence and the date and time of the next food shipment, Plague Knight set his master plan in motion. Preparations were made to excuse his absence, as usual, and his transmutation potion was carefully distilled in the recesses of the Explodatorium.   
Mona and the Magicist, meanwhile, were hard at work developing another Star Map.

By the time everything was in place, Plague Knight was practically bursting at the seams with excitement. They were so close to the final base ingredient! The Serum Supernus was growing ever more solid in the realm of possibility… 

“Alright… that should do it… are you, um, ready..?” the Magicist stepped back from her Star Map and glanced up at the pair of alchemists standing by.

“Hee! Ready and raring to go!!” cried Plague Knight, eagerly.

Mona simply chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around him, “Thanks, Magicist. See you later…”

One, two, three..! After a trio of careful, graceful steps, Plague Knight and Mona were standing in a freezing snowdrift yet again. This time, however, instead of blue-peaked mountains jutting into the horizon, the Tower of Fate loomed over them like a shadow of doom. A frigid, sable beach stretched out ahead, and the pair could just make out a small train of figures moving across it in the distance.

“Hee! That must be them,” said Plague Knight, fumbling in his robes for his transmutation potion and popping the cork.

“What do I do?” said Mona, looking uncertain, “How are you going to smuggle me in?”

“Hee…” Plague Knight hadn’t really thought about that too clearly, “Heh… er, why don’t you head down to the beach and hide behind one of those big rocks? I’ll come and find you when I’ve got everything sorted out!”

Mona rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. Plague Knight watched her slip furtively down the shore, before swigging down his potion and heading for the busy group of figures.   
Sure enough, as he neared them, they appeared to be the supply crew. A small fleet of ramshackle-looking propeller boats were docked at a dilapidated peer which descended into the dark water. The figures were shuffling across it, heaving large crates.

“There you are!” cried a shoreman in a heavy jacket with Propeller Knight’s telltale emblem emblazoned on the arm, “You’re late, Teddy!”

“Sorry! Just had a bit of an accident,” said Plague Knight, vaguely, “I’ll have everything out here asap! You go on ahead without me…”

He jogged past the grunting assemblage to a shack some ways away from the beach. ‘Teddy’ had described the proceedings in as much detail as he could muster. The shack was where the crates were stocked by Polar Knight’s hunters. They resided there until the boatmen came to ferry them to the Tower. Plague Knight had little trouble locating the crates marked for Teddy. Because of his tardiness, it seemed the others had already loaded most of their cargo already.   
Plague Knight made a show of fiddling with one of his crates while the other boatmen heaved out boxes around him. When the room was finally empty, Plague Knight quickly used his concealed staff to pry open one of the largest crates. Yes… Mona would just fit. Thank goodness there were little trolleys at their disposal…

Plague Knight quickly hauled the large carcass out of the crate and lugged it into the snow outside the shack. He pushed it into a nearby drift and did his best to conceal the dripping redness. Once he was finished that, he hurried down the beach.

“Just dropped something!” he called back to the other boatmen, “Really! Head off without me, I’ll catch up!”

It took Plague Knight a little longer than he liked to find Mona, who’d curled up in a little out-of-the-way alcove of black rock jutting out of the beach.

“Heh, Mona! There you are,” he whispered as he managed to spot her.

Mona flinched sightly, but relaxed when she realized who it was.

“Figured out how to get me in yet?”

“Yep! You’d better come quickly, though; they’re all waiting for me…”

The pair hurried back to the shack, taking the long way to avoid being seen. When they finally arrived, Plague Knight wasted no time in pointing out the crate Mona was to reside in, whilst simultaneously loading several boxes onto a small trolley and dragging them out to the docks.  
By the time he had everything loaded, Mona had managed to fold up inside her container. Her nose was wrinkled at the smell of blood and she didn’t look comfortable, but she wasn’t complaining.

“Alright! Here we go!” he said, hefting up the lid of the crate, “I’m going to seal you in, now…”

“…Okay…”

Plague Knight quickly nailed down the lid again and transported the box carefully out into his boat. He could see the others up ahead, already halfway across the dark, traitorous lake.

Sailing was not exactly something Plague Knight had done before. Luckily, the controls to the craft weren’t too complicated. It was a smallish boat with a roofed-in area for the cargo and an underwater propeller for propulsion. All he needed to do was start the propeller, then steer the boat home.   
The way ahead, however, was not exactly clear; huge craggy spires of black rock jutted out of the water like misplaced fangs, making the trip an obstacle course of danger. Even more hazardous were the rocks laying just out of sight beneath the waves. Plague Knight did his best to avoid these as he went, grumbling to himself. The Enchantress sure knew how to break the spirit in all sorts of creative ways…

By the time he docked at the far shore, the other boatmen were already nearly finished unloading their cargo. 

“Y’alright there, Ted?”

“Need any help with those? We’re running late!”

Plague Knight waved his hands, “No thanks, fellas, I don’t want to inconvenience you!”

The others frowned at him, but most decided he wasn’t worth their time. One, however -the man in the heavy jacket- stayed behind, watching Plague Knight with narrowed eyes as he hauled boxes off his boat.

“Something wrong, chief?” asked Plague Knight, after a while, gritting his teeth in annoyance behind his minion mask.

“You’ve been funny all week, Ted. You’re not up to something, are you?”

“The only thing I’m up to is my ears in these damned boxes. Not that it seems to matter to you…” a bit of sass might shut the man up. Or make things worse.

To Plague Knight’s consternation, the man came forward and began helping him carry boxes off. 

“If it get done faster this way…” he heard him grumbling under his breath.

Plague Knight’s nerves mounted as the crates dwindled. He tried to assure himself that nothing would go wrong, and that there was no reason to check inside the boxes, but–

“Hey! What in the hell is going on, here?!”

Plague Knight’s heart leapt into his mouth. He rushed over, preparing to summon a barrage of bombs with his concealed staff. The man in the jacket was standing next to Mona’s crate, crowbar in hand. Before Plague Knight could do a thing, he pushed the top off the crate and peered inside.

“…I’ll be damn! Empty! Teddy– Do you know anything about this?!”

Plague Knight stared in shock. He scuttled over and shoved his face over the edge of the crate. Just as the man in the jacket had said, it was completely empty, except for the bloodstains of its erstwhile cargo.

“I… I… Wha..?”

“You’re not playing dumb with me, are you?” growled the jacketed man.

“No! I have no idea what’s goin’ on here! Where the hells’re my freight?!” cried Plague Knight, using his genuine shock to play up his false outrage.

The jacketed man pinched the bridge of his nose, angrily.

“Fils de pute…” he growled, “Those hunter… What the hell are they playing at? Rrrgh..!”

With that, he stomped off, leaving Plague Knight alone with the crate and a lot of conflicting emotions. On one hand, he was deeply glad Mona hadn’t been caught. On the other, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Where on earth was she? How did she get out of the crate without anybody noticing?

He decided it would be best to find the real Teddy first, and complete the illusion. The shore he was on was made of dark sand, and it lead almost immediately into a large cave-mouth. The passage beyond was long, damp, and echoing. It bore clear signs of being flooded at high tide.   
Plague Knight dragged his trolley full of crates down this dingy tunnel, keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of danger. As he went, he observed several branching paths leading off into darkness, though they were all blocked off by iron bars.   
When he finally reached the end of the rocky corridor, he found himself at a thick metal door with a slot in it at eye-level. He knocked on it, sharply.

“Delivery’s here!” he called, gruffly.

The door opened a moment later, revealing a twitchy-looking mage with a propeller strapped to their back.

“Oh! That’s the last of it! Good! Great! Bring it in!”

Plague Knight dragged the trolley inside, and the mage bowed in midair.

“Thank you! Safe trip back! Don’t fall in the water!”

They quickly pivoted around and blew Plague Knight right back out the door, slamming it behind him. Plague Knight picked himself up off the ground and brushed off his sandy uniform, scowling.

“Blegh,” he grumbled, “Heh, Meanies…”

“Hey, boss!”

Plague Knight turned so quickly he nearly cracked a rib. He almost brained the owner of the mystery voice behind him, but managed to hold back at the sight of a familiar beak.

“Hee! Forty-eight! There you are!”

“Yep! How’d it go, boss? I–“

“No time for pleasantries!” Plague Knight began to chivvy Teddy down the passage, “You have to take your boat back before your coworkers get suspicious, heeheehee!”

“O-oh, right! Don’t worry boss, you can count on me..!”

 

Plague Knight waited in the mouth of the cave until he heard the boat’s propeller begin to fade from earshot, then turned back to the path behind him. Those other doorways had looked promising, but the bars blocking them off had looked solid…  
He scuttled over to the nearest one and pried at them. Yep. Solid as anything. Plague Knight cursed under his breath. Dare he risk bombing them open? No… that would be too loud…

Plague Knight sat down next to this newest obstacle and began to think. A few sticks of metal weren’t going to stop him. He just needed to be clever about this. Perhaps a potent form of vitriol to melt through the bars? That could work… but it would leave evidence that someone had been there. Although, judging by the grime caked on, these entrances weren’t often inspected…

POOF

Yet again, Plague Knight nearly jumped out of his skin as a figure appeared out of nowhere, practically on top of him. He craned his neck upwards to see Mona straddling his seated form, her eyes wide. She wobbled a little, braced herself against the stony walls, then relaxed as she ascertained that the coast was clear.

“Ah. Good. I was right…”

“Mona! Where have you been?!” cried Plague Knight, indignantly, “You nearly scared me half to death, heehee! How’d you get out of your crate?!”

“I just banished one side and crawled out,” said Mona, shrugging, “I heard all the boats leave except for one and guessed one of the shoremen stayed behind to help you. So I teleported back to the mainland…”

“Y-you teleported back?!”

“Well–“ Mona stepped back and folded her arms, “I knew that when all the boats returned, you’d be safely alone. Almost certainly. So I waited out of sight until I heard the last two coming in, and then I teleported to you. Worked out just fine…”

Plague Knight stared for a few moments, before giggling, partly in amusement, partly in relief.

“Heehee! You clever, reckless girl! Well– why don’t you use that magic of yours to do something about these bars?”

Mona rolled her eyes, then glanced at the metal barrier.

“Oh. Easy.”

With a snap of her fingers, the bars disappeared and reappeared in a little clinking heap on the ground. Plague Knight hastened into the tunnel beyond, and waved Mona in frantically. Mona bustled after him, then waved her hand again. The bars replaced themselves smartly, with a slight puff of dust, almost as if they’d never been disturbed.

“Hee! Alright. Let’s go find those Shadows..!”

\- - -

The road ahead was a dark one. As they moved along, the tunnel became rougher and gloomier. Clearly, this passage wasn’t used by any of the Tower’s inhabitants. It seemed that it was simply a natural part of the cave that lead to the Tower’s dungeons.   
The ground was sandy and wet, and the walls were cold and dripping. Plague Knight could barely see a foot in front of his mask, until Mona made a scoffing noise behind him and summoned a torch.

“There,” she said, flatly, “So we don’t fall flat on our faces.”

Being able to see was certainly a plus, though it didn’t help all of their troubles. The path became uneven as they walked. Some stretches were so narrow that neither of them could get through– at least until Plague Knight’s transmutation potion wore off and his decreased size allowed him to slip onwards.   
He was a bit worried, at first, fearing he might have to leave Mona behind. Yet again, however, she quickly solved the problem by teleporting to his side as soon as he reached a large enough area. And so, in darts and pops, the pair made their way along.

“Ow!” Mona winced as she bumped her head on the low ceiling for the fifth time, “Rrrgh! I should have known it wouldn’t be spacious, but it’s getting hard to teleport!”

Plague Knight giggled nervously, “Hee… heh, er, I’m sure it will widen up soon enough. Is, uhh… is your head okay?”

“Yeah…” 

He heard her fingers rubbing against her hair gingerly. He was about to get moving again when he noticed another sound.

“Ssht– Mona. Stand still.”

Mona complied and went completely rigid. Plague Knight strained his ears for the noise again. Ah! Just as he’d thought; from up ahead, past the faint sounds of dripping and a low current of air, was a faint skittering.

“Douse the light, heehee,” Plague Knight whispered.

Mona banished the torch in a brief blue flash, then began to follow Plague Knight hesitantly forward. They crept along the walls, feeling their way along, listening carefully for more signs of their quarry. 

“There!” hissed Plague Knight, pointing at a flicker of yellow just in front of them. 

The glowing eyes of a Shadow were just visible in the darkness. They floated there for a moment, before bounding away.

“After it!” whispered Mona, excitedly. 

The pair of alchemists chased the little creature onwards, finding, to their relief, that the tunnel seemed to be widening. Quite a bit, in fact, as the sound of their footsteps began to echo more and more loudly, until Plague Knight stumbled over a rock, sending pebbles bouncing forwards into what sounded like an enormous cavern.

“I think we should get a better look,” muttered Mona, and she once again summoned her torch.

The resulting spark of light illuminated exactly what Plague Knight had guessed; an immense, stony chamber populated with grand stalactites and stalagmites. It was as if they were inside a huge, toothy maw.

The ground was swarming with Shadows, which were quickly scuttling away from Mona’s light.

“There!” cried Plague Knight, pointing to the place they all seemed to be running to, “An escape path! Block it off, heehee!”

Mona sprinted towards it and summoned several sacks from the lab to cover off the little hole the Shadows were scuttling into. The creatures let out chittering cries and stumbled back, shocked by the sudden obstacle. 

“Heehee! Let’s get them while they’re stymied! Mona! The Light Bombs!”

Mona snapped her fingers, and Plague Knight’s robes were suddenly bulging with the aforementioned explosives. 

Plague Knight tore one from the neck of his robes and tossed it in a high arc towards the swarming Shadows. Mona danced out of the way, but kept her torchlight close enough to allow him to aim properly.   
The outer casing of the Light Bomb broke away, just as intended, crumbling into dust as the inner bomb was released, undulating sightly in the air as it flew.   
It landed smack-dab in the middle of the crowd of Shadows with an anticlimactic SPLAT, sending glowing blue liquid everywhere.

To Plague Knight’s consternation, however, the Shadows all managed to dodge. Now they were running in several directions, looking for other escape routes. Mona, luckily, was already working against them; she continued to summon sacks to block off little holes and passages, even using a straw mattress from the sleeping quarters to block off the way they’d come. 

Plague Knight, meanwhile, began to chase after the creatures, following the greatest concentrations of glowing yellow eyes. They were frustratingly agile, however, and managed to evade the brunt of his attacks. 

“Hee! Stand still, you vermin!” cried Plague Knight, “I just need a little blood..!”

His eighth Light Bomb finally found a true mark, sending most of its contents splashing all over one of the creatures, who let out a cry as the liquid hissed violently on its skin. 

“Hee! Finally! Now––“

Plague Knight was about to scuttle forward to see if he could collect any blood, when the Shadows began chittering loudly. All at once.   
Rather than escaping, the creatures were now all rushing to the place where their comrade had been injured. Plague Knight stumbled slightly as their numbers grew underfoot, clambering on top of one another, tiny limbs wiggling, eyes blinking like a mass of oddly foreboding fireflies. Even more unnerving was the sound of Mona’s barricades being nudged out of the way as yet more Shadows spilled into the room.

“Heh… Mona… “ said Plague Knight, backing up, slowly, “I think I just triggered the Single Multitude… heehee..!” 

A great, writhing black mass rose up from the floor, its body filled with hundreds of staring yellow eyes. It opened its great mouth and let out a single, simultaneous chatter that sounded more like a horrible screech.

“Well, at least it’s a bigger target!” cried Mona, craning her neck to stare at the thing that nearly brushed the ceiling with its great, bulbous head.

“Weeheehee! Cover me!” cried Plague Knight, already rushing to the nearest stone platform and launching off of it in a burst of green flames. 

He flew through the air and tossed a Light Bomb at the creature with a mad cackle of triumph. This time, it was a sure hit, as the loud chittering scream and hissing sound indicated. The creature swung its huge, meaty arm, smashing thought thin stalagmites like they were blades of grass.  
Plague Knight bursted again to get out of the path of destruction, hitting the ground in a sprint and trying to maneuver around the creature to see if Mona was okay. 

Mona, it seemed, was perfectly fine, as she began shouting at the creature.

“HEY! YOU BIG GALOOT! LOOK OVER HERE! HEEEY!!” she shouted, summoning a second torch and waving them like a beacon in the air.

Plague Knight realized she was drawing the enemy’s ire, and quickly took advantage of her aid, bursting up and tossing another pair of bombs at the Single Multitude.   
It shrieked in pain as his bombs hit, though in the glow of their detonation, Plague Knight noted that they weren’t quite strong enough to draw blood.

“Hee! Blast!” he cried, furiously, making a mad dash for cover as the creature rounded on him and tried to crush him again. 

He needed to keep hitting it in the same place, which was a little hard to do when the cavern was so dark and the creature was so mobile. Nevertheless, his and Mona’s little tag-teaming effort seemed to be working.

“Keep distracting it!” cried Plague Knight, “I have to hammer it on one side, heehee!”

Mona responded by summoning a Cascade bomb from the labs and using its garish magenta flames to draw the creature’s ire. Plague Knight dipped and darted over broken rubble, getting close enough to burst, then tossing three more bombs at the creature.  
Another screech and another swing of the arm, but Plague Knight just managed to avoid it yet again. He sniffed the air, trying to see if he could smell blood -although he wasn’t sure what a Shadow’s blood smelled like. He had to be very careful, now– he was down to six Light Bombs. They’d only managed to make about twenty of them, and every single one of them counted. If he ran out, there would be no other way to damage the Shadows, and their risky journey would all be for naught.

Plague Knight readied himself for another strike as he heard Mona start up her cacophony once more. He carefully maneuvered himself into position, waiting for the next opening. However, rather than the creature making a sweeping blow as it usually did, it suddenly lurched forwards with great speed, thrusting its huge fist directly forwards in Mona’s direction.  
Plague Knight’s heart leapt into his throat as he heard a strangled cry.

“MONA!” 

Without a second thought, Plague Knight burst into the air, summoned a vat under his feet, then burst again, sailing over the creature’s bowed head. He dropped another three bombs -three now, only three left- which splattered on the creature’s head and caused it to reel back, almost crushing him against the ceiling. He narrowly avoided this unpleasant fate, and fell to the ground.   
Unfortunately, his landing wasn’t particularly graceful, and he felt a wave of pain shoot up his legs. He reached into his robes and inhaled a deep gulp of sweet vitriol as he scrambled around in the darkness, trying to find his partner.

“Mona! Mona! Where are you?!”

He had little time to find her, however, as the Single Multitude’s heavy footfalls sounded behind him. Plague Knight just managed to dodge out of the way as its fist came down again, sending rubble and dust everywhere.

Plague Knight realized that being in the vicinity of Mona’s whereabouts would further endanger her. One of those punches might just miss him and crush her instead, wherever she was. Plague Knight quickly began to run directly under the creature’s legs. This maneuver had worked with the Wergletwergle. With the Single Multitude… not so much. The enormous creature simple sat down as Plague Knight skittered under its legs, and its colossal rear-end nearly crushed him as he ran flat out to avoid it.   
While he did manage to escape being squashed, the creature’s head tipped back and sent stalactites raining down. Several smaller ones hit Plague Knight painfully on the back, while a larger one landed directly in front of him, tipped over, and collapsed on top of him.

Plague Knight dug himself laboriously out of the rubble, agony spiking through his chest. His ribs were probably not in good shape, but the bones in his limbs seemed to be intact, thank the gods. Another fist slammed into the ground close by, sending the rubble and Plague Knight tumbling across the rocks.

Plague Knight heaved himself to his feat and began running again, just trying to stay out of the line of fire. He had to think. He had to figure out a way to end this. He had three bombs left, and Mona was either down for the count, or–

‘Don’t think that, don’t think that,” he told himself, frantically. If he considered the possibility, he’d fall apart.

He concentrated instead on summoning another Cascade bomb and tossing it away from himself, to give himself time to find cover. The Single Multitude did indeed lumber after the brilliantly pink flames, allowing Plague Knight to dodge behind a particularly large stalagmite and catch his breath. 

Three bombs, little strength… and he’d lost track of the spot he’d been hammering away at. The chances of getting out of this alive were so slim, now. But he always got away, right? He was Plague Knight! Master of the Explodatorium, evil genius, alchemist extraordinaire! All he needed to do was use his vast intellect to turn this gargantuan problem into something manageable… something smaller.  
And as the creature roared in fury at being unable to find its target, Plague Knight came up with just the right idea.

Leaping out from behind his cover, Plague Knight conjured a black powder bomb and detonated it beneath him, bomb bursting into the air and letting out a lout cackle.

“HEE HEE HEE!! HERE I AM! COME AND GET ME, WAH HA HA!”

The creature rounded at the sound, and quickly began to close the gap between him and itself. Plague Knight summoned more black powder bombs, hurling them at the Single Multitude as it approached.

“HEE HEE HEE! COME ON, YOU GREAT BRUTE! COME ON!” he screeched. 

He knew his regular explosives were like spitballs to it, but that was what he was counting on. He needed to annoy it. He needed it to…

“CHEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

Haha! Just as he’d hoped, the creature opened its mouth wide, and Plague Knight drew back his arm and launched the penultimate two Light Bombs directly into its gaping maw, along with a barrage of black powder bombs. The combination of the black powder’s explosive power and the Light Bomb’s ability to hurt the Shadows would tear them apart from the inside, hopefully destabilizing whatever held them together and rendering them small and weak once more…

…Only it didn’t. Because Plague Knight missed.  
Weakened by the damage he’d taken earlier, he wasn’t quite strong enough, even with the lob handle, to get the bomb-cluster high enough to enter the creature’s mouth. It rose in an arc, then fell and detonated harmlessly between the creature’s arms. Plague Knight stared in horror.  
There was no time to run, it was already too close. And he only had one more Light Bomb. It wouldn’t do any good. And yet– and yet this couldn’t be his last stand! It couldn’t be a failure! There had to be some way out, had to be some clever trick or ruse to come out on top..!  
But even as he though this, he knew he was too late. The creature’s arm was already swinging down to crush him. 

WHAM.

Something crashed into Plague Knight from one side, sending him toppling across the rocks as the Single Multitude’s fist came down just inches away. Flailing, Plague Knight tried to figure out what had happened, until he felt something soft and warm above him.  
The form shifted, then stood over him, protectively. He could see the silhouette against the creature’s myriad of eyes. Mona. It was Mona. She was alive… 

There was a silence as the creature raised its arm to strike again, undaunted. Then Mona raised her left hand.

“… **G o** … **A w a y**.”

 

The chamber turned blue. A blinding, searing light split the darkness like a sabre, obliterating everything else. It was so powerful Plague Knight could almost feel it, smell it, taste it… And then he blacked out.

\- - -

When Plague Knight awoke, he was first aware of a dull ache all over his body. He then noticed a thick, pungent smell in the air, like burning flesh and sweet rot.  
He pushed himself to his knees, and felt fabric shift off of him. He felt for it and recognized the texture. Mona’s cloak? It was tattered… singed…  
He scrambled forwards, and felt his way to the solid shape of his partner. Scrambling for his staff, he concentrated as hard as he could and summoned a flare from the labs. Setting it alight, he held it over Mona’s body to check for injury.   
It seemed she wasn’t too badly hurt; he could see her chest rising and falling and feel steady breath at her lips. She was unconscious, however, and her skin had an odd look to it. It was difficult to tell under the reddish light, but it looked as if it had been harshly sunburnt… Moving the light downwards over her body, Plague Knight nearly dropped it, fumbling panically and suppressing a cry of shock.

Mona’s glove and most of her sleeve were burned away on her left arm, all the way up to her mid-bicep. The flesh underneath was– oh gods. It was horrifically charred, to the point where the shape of the bones beneath were visible.   
What on earth had Mona done? All he remembered was the impression of heat and blueness… 

“Mona… Mona, wake up…” he murmured, gently prodding her, “Heehee, w-we need to get out of here…”

Mona did not budge. As calmly as she was breathing, the fact that she wasn’t waking up made Plague Knight very nervous. How could he get her out of here if she was unconscious? And by the looks of her arm, if he didn’t treat it fast, it might not be attached much longer…

First things first, though. The strange smell, and the lack of the Single Multitude meant that Mona’s sacrifice hadn’t been in vain, and she would be furious if he didn’t take advantage of it. Standing up, Plague Knight began hunting around to see if he could find any carcasses collect from.   
While he didn’t find any bodies, he did notice that the water in the depressions in the floor was thicker and darker than it had been before. Withdrawing several metal flasks from his cloak, he began filling each with a healthy amount of what he hoped was the Single Multitude’s Own Life. He also hoped he’d be able to purify it back at the lab if the sand and water contaminated it.   
Once he had enough, he stowed the bottles away and began inspecting the walls. He hated to leave Mona laying there, but he needed to figure out how to get out of here first. As he paced, he realized, with growing horror, that the problem was bigger than anticipated.

With Mona unconscious and injured, it would be impossible to get back to the labs fast enough. The Tower of Fate was all the way across The Valley from the Potionarium. Even the Explodatorium was in the second quadrant, which wasn’t much closer. Getting there on foot would take days, even weeks, and moving Mona in this state would be very tricky…

Plague Knight sat down and made a small mental tally of what he had, and what he was up against. At his disposal was his magical staff, with which he could conjure things he knew the whereabouts of with enough concentration. That was useful. By way of his staff, he had some of his lab equipment, like his bombs, his flares, his beakers and his vats. He also had his brilliant mind on his side- a formidable ally indeed.  
Standing in his way was, first and foremost, Mona’s unconscious body and his aching bones. These two combined created a very difficult situation. Mona was large and bulky, and difficult to fit through small spaces. His frailty meant that carrying her would be a chore, too.   
Whispers of self-hatred clamoured at the back of his mind, but he shut them out, focusing on the problem at hand. He had to save Mona… he had to get out of here… he had to complete the Serum Supernus.

The next thing standing in his way was the cave. How to escape its confines with Mona in tow? And then, finally… the surrounding wilderness. The long road back home. To traverse its length would be nigh impossible like this. Yes. He’d gone over that before.  
If only there were some way to get from point A to point B quickly… Mona’s teleport was out of the question, and Plague Knight couldn’t remember how to create a Star Map… not that that would have helped, anyway, in their conditions.  
Finding and asking a Wizzem for help was also off the table. Too many questions would arise, and the mission would be compromised. However, thinking of Wizzems gave Plague Knight an idea.

The Magic Mirror still stood inside the Tower of Fate. By passing through its glass, one could travel from one end of The Valley to the other as if stepping through a door. That would certainly get them home quick enough! Yes. That was their best option at this point.  
But how to get to it? Not only was it in the main hub of the Tower, which was quite far away, but it was also well-guarded. 

Plague Knight decided to figure out how to get to it, first. He could think of a way to outsmart the guards later.   
He began searching the edges of the room with his flare, looking for exit ways. There were a lot of them, actually. All of them were semi-blocked off by the sacks Mona had summoned in to deter the Shadows. Plague Knight remembered their tiny bodies swarming, scuttling across the floor, squirming against the barriers, into the cracks…

The cracks?

A memory flashed into his mind. The first time he’d seen a Shadow; back when he’d been stumbling blindly about the Tower after discovering Mona and Spectre Knight’s relationship. He’d been in the Tower! The main Tower! That crack in the wall… could it possibly lead down here?

Plague Knight took a moment to think, then scuttled back to Mona.

“I shan’t be gone long,” he murmured, softly, brushing a lock of her hair gently away from her inflamed forehead, then scuttling out the way they’d come in.

He made his way all the way along the dark tunnel, until he reached the iron bars blocking his way out. He closed his eyes and pictured the shore he’d arrived at only an hour or so earlier. From his vantage point, the Tower was facing towards him, at a forty-five degree angle. The passage that lead into the inner chamber veered sharply off to the left. Keeping that in mind, Plague Knight rushed back, noting each twist and turn and concentrating hard on keeping his bearings.   
When he finally returned to the cavern, he tossed his flare to the wall that faced the Tower, then focused on summoning several bombs. So much for stealth… but, if luck was on their side…

Sucking in a deep breath and a lungful of sweet vitriol, Plague Knight knelt and heaved Mona’s body over his shoulders. She was just over two-hundred pounds, and he weighed less than half of her. But it didn’t matter. No matter how much his ribs screamed and his shoulders ached, he pushed ever upwards, until he was standing under her. He reached up to her jewel and fumbled with it, unclipping her cape from her shoulders. He knew she wouldn’t be happy that he left it behind, but it would only get in the way, and was heavily damaged anyway.

Kicking it under some rubble, he began the arduous journey forwards, to the nearest exit.  
He was no demolitions expert -not a safe one, at least- but during his trip to the Lost City, Mole Knight had blabbered on about more than a few things. He’d found himself listening more intently than he would have liked to admit, and now, he could only thank the gods that he had. He used what little he could remember of the disjointed, rambling talk to blast his way carefully through the narrower openings in the new passageway. So long as there were no cave-ins, their journey might just come to a triumphant end.

He struggled along in the darkness, endeavouring to put one foot after another, again and again, moving ever onwards at a stuttering but relentless pace.  
As he went, the coolness, the weight, the sound of his own breath and the ache in his bones brought an old memory floating up from the depths of his murky past. He shuddered against it. Here he was… History was repeating itself.

\- - -

“S’no use… jus’ leave me… go get help…”

“No! I-I won’t leave you here, hhh… It’s– hhh– it’s my fault, what happened, h-heh! A-all my fault!”

“Don’ talk like that… Jus… Jus put me down…”

“No! I’m strong enough– h-heheh– haha– I-I AM STRONG ENOUGH! I-I can– hhh– I can get you home!”

“Nggh– ’s too far! m’ too heavy..! Please stop ‘fore you kill yourself! Wha’s mother n’ father gonna do if… if we’re both hurt?”

“…Heh… You don’t believe in me, do you, Pietr..? Y-you think I’m weak… like everyone else… rrrghh– Well… I-I’m– I’m going to prove you wrong! I’m going to get you home, ngh– no matter what! And I’m gonna brew that potion– NNnggghh!! And I’m gonna be just like you, and everyone else! You’ll see! Y-you’ll see!! HEH! HAH! HEE HEE HEE!!!”

\- - -

Plague Knight nearly collapsed at the sight of brick. After what seemed like hundreds of twists, turns, ups and downs -though mostly ups- the path finally came to an end at a sliver of brick wall between the natural rock. Plague Knight took a moment to catch his breath, wheezing heavily, then stood back and tossed one final bomb.

BOOM!

The bricks broke apart, crumbling outwards, and Plague Knight forced his way through the gap with Mona over his shaking shoulders. Once outside, he fell to his knees, gasping, unable to prevent Mona from sliding off of him onto the ground. He tried to think of his next step, tried to think how to proceed, but exhaustion was muddling his mind. All he could do was lay there, drawing air into his burning lungs. 

The sound of footsteps jolted him up, however. No, no, no! He quickly turned to Mona and tried to heave her back into the wall, to hide her, but she was so heavy, and his arms were so heavy, and his hands were so sweaty..! He changed tactic, trying to summon more bombs, but his concentration was shot. 

He stood there, floundering, panicking, choking back a scream of torment–

“B…boss?”

Plague Knight froze. He turned as the sound of footsteps slowed. There, standing in the dark corridor before him, were three of his own minions.   
Plague Knight had never felt so overjoyed to see those stupid pink beaks.

“Heh… heh… hee..!”

“There were some explosion sounds, a-and we got sent down to–– W-whoa, boss! You sound like you just gargled a gallon of rusty nails!”

“And you look like you just crawled out of a waste vat!”

“And you smell like a dead rat…”

“Quiet!” Plague Knight barked, rawly, pointing a shaking finger at Mona’s head and torso sticking out of the wall, “I need… get Mona… home now!!”

The minions flinched.

“O-oh no!”

“Ms. Mona!”

“W-what happened? Is she..?”

Before Plague Knight could yell at them again, a fourth set of footsteps sounded down the hall. This one was uneven.

“Thanks for waiting up,” came an annoyed voice, “What’s––“

Another minion slowed as she came upon the scene. She looked from her three coworkers to her filthy superior. 

“…Boss. What do you need?”

Plague Knight thanked the gods he’d accidentally chosen a competent minion to be on his Order team.

“Heh… Need… I need to get to the Magic Mirror, hee..! I-I need to get Mona there… Heh, right now!”

“But the halls are swarming with Tower guys!” interjected one minion.

“Yeah– Won’t they get suspicious?” 

“Hee! I know that, you ninnies,” growled Plague Knight, exasperatedly, “I need you to… to…”

“Create a distraction,” said the fourth minion. The others looked at her, “Boss. I think I know what to do.”

The other minions looked nervously between themselves.

“U-uh… maybe that’s not such a good idea,” said the first, “If we create a distraction…”

“…The Tower guys will be after us!” finished the second.

“M-maybe even the E-E-E–“

“Shut it,” spat the fourth minion, sharply, “I don’t have time for your cowardice. Can’t you see the Boss needs us?”

“Y-yeah, but––“

“But nothing! We all owe him,” the fourth minion was standing straight, chest puffed out, fists clenched, “He took us in when nobody else would! Half of us would have never found work if he hadn’t hired us. Half of us are outcasts from society. Some of us are both!”

The minion reached up and pulled her mask away from her face to stare down the others with large, dark eyes. Plague Knight blinked. He knew that face. It was her; the first recruit… minion number one.  
He remembered meeting her at the bar all those years ago, borrowing her poleyn, bandaging her wounded knee… She still walked with a limp.  
Now she was glaring at the others with an expression so fierce it could melt steel.

“Ms. Mona… She doesn’t look too good,” she said, sharply, “Are you really going to let her be claimed by the Tower? All this time, they’ve been working on something to end all this misery… And now we have to play our part! Boss–”

She turned to Plague Knight, “I need a Plague Bomb. Do you have one?”

Plague Knight weakly raised his staff, and used the last of his mental strength to conjure one from the depths of the Explodatorium. He handed it to minion one, who tucked it into her robes, then removed her mask.

“Put this on Ms. Mona and follow us. As soon as the coast is clear, make a dash for the Mirror. We won’t let you down.”

For a few moments, Plague Knight felt a painful swelling sensation in his chest and throat. Did they really see him this way? As… as some kind of strange, unlikely saviour? Even after what they’d seen in the Enchantress’s chambers..? Did his ministrations all that time ago really mean so much to her..?

He had little time to dwell on it, however. The other three minions were steeling themselves. One prudently scuttled over and helped Plague Knight lift Mona. He saw them flinch at the sight of her mangled arm and resisted the urge to kick them. Not that he was strong enough to do so…

 

The trip through the Tower was not an easy one. The minions -minus the one helping carry Mona- formed a little escort around their boss and carefully made sure that the coasts ahead were clear. The halting, anxious journey reminded Plague Knight of traversing he halls of the Academy of Alchemy at night so long ago. Only then, Mona had been on her feet as well…

When the group finally reached a point where it was too dangerous to continue, they came to a halt.

“Alright,” said minion one, “I’m going to plant the bomb. You three, stay here and keep the boss out of sight. When I flood the floor, go and make sure everyone is evacuated. Everyone. Especially in the Mirror chamber. Boss…”

She turned to Plague Knight, “Once it’s safe, head for home. I don’t know how much time we can buy you, but…”

“It’s fine, One,” rasped Plague Knight, “If we make it out of here alive, I’ll see to it that you’re finally promoted, heehee!”

He saw a flicker of amusement pass over the woman’s face, before she scuttled off into the throng in the main hall. 

Plague Knight and his minions waited anxiously in their empty hallway, listening carefully for any sounds of incoming personnel or pandemonium. Plague Knight turned his attentions to Mona, briefly, to check if she was still doing alright. Her arm remained in awful shape, and the increased light revealed the extent of the sunburnt quality of her skin, as well as several bruises. However, she still seemed to be sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling slowly, a blue flush in her cheeks. Plague Knight gently obscured them with the mask minion one had given him, tightening the strap carefully around the back of her head and doing his best to avoid injuring her further.

All of the sudden, the usual hubbub of the Tower took a sharp upswing. Plague Knight glanced up to see a faint smoke drifting down the corridor ahead. 

“Heh, I think that’s your cue,” he wheezed.

The three minions nodded, and scampered away jumpily. The one helping to carry Mona carefully slid her back onto Plague Knight’s shoulders fully, with a muttered, “Sorry, boss…”

Waiting for the minions to clear the area seemed to take an age, but finally, the way ahead sounded blessedly clear. Approaching, Plague Knight found the passages to be deserted. Coming out into the main hall, he found the bar completely empty of its usual patrons, their seats left in a visible hurry. He dragged Mona across the polished black floors, thanking the gods that her long skirts muffled the sound of her sliding feet against the ground. 

Finally, finally, he arrived in the Mirror Chamber, and approached the base of the huge glass.

“Explodatorium,” he gasped.

Nothing happened. Plague Knight cursed. Of course it would take some kind of magic-user to set the correct destination. Oh well. He’d come too far to fail now.  
Fumbling one-handed for his staff, he poked the raven-head into the gleaming surface and pictured his lab as hard as he could. To his great relief, this seemed to do the trick. The surface of the mirror whirled, showing a view of the foreboding black castle in the distance. 

“Heehee..! One final push..!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! ...I know I promised faster updates but I... well. I think I can safely say the next chapter will come faster. I promise. Anyway! Thanks again for all your comments -sorry for those of you were hoping no Shadows would be harmed; I promise, none of them composed Manny or Legion- and I hope you all enjoyed the climax! All we have left is falling action and epilogue! Thanks for reading! Seeya soon... --TS


	22. Facing the Task

When Plague Knight awoke, he found himself in a cot in the infirmary. His muscles felt as if they’d turned to jelly, and his body ached as if he’d been crushed flat by a press. He had a vague memory of stumbling into the front hall with Mona on his back and collapsing from exhaustion. He must have fallen asleep…   
His wounds seemed to be bandaged, and his legs were elevated for whatever reason. Well… It was slightly heartening to know that the minions were at least competent enough to get him medical aid.   
Glancing over to the cot beside him, he saw Mona laying there. He noted the bandages on her arm and cursed under his breath. He made an awkward, lurching motion in an attempt to get up, but fatigue weighed him back down.

“Grrggh… Damn these feeble bones..!”

“Boss?”

“Boss!”

“Boss is awake!”

A gaggle of minions quickly surrounded him, excitedly, all glad to see their boss back in the waking world.

“Go to the Village!” Plague Knight rasped, “Get the Magicist! Now! Tell her to give you her tonics, and bring them back straight away!”

The minions hesitated, before a few broke away to comply with his order. The remaining ones fussed over him, fluffing his pillow and putting yet another cushion under his feet. 

“What happened, boss?”

“You looked like you were near-death when you came in…”

“Is Ms. Mona alright? S-she won’t wake up…”

Plague Knight groaned. His head was pounding along with his body. He just prayed the tonics would get there soon. While he waited, he instructed the minions to remove the bandages from Mona’s arm. He needed to tend to it very carefully if there was to be any hope of salvaging it.

When at last the minions returned with the tonics, Plague Knight quaffed a few of them and felt a renewed sense of energy sweep through him. He knew he was pushing it and should probably be getting more bedrest -not to mention proper medication- but he didn’t have time. Mona needed his attention. 

Slipping out of his cot, he dressed himself in his robes and scuttled to her side. He quickly began ordering his minions around, requesting powders and tinctures. He would have gotten them himself, but conserving what little energy boost he had was probably for the best.   
He started by making a weak, vitriolic paste to carefully remove the charred and blistered skin from Mona’s arm. He then concocted a secondary brew that he would submerge the afflicted limb in. This would hopefully heal the underlying flesh into something recognizable again. The whole time he instructed an assistant to keep careful watch on Mona’s condition.

He was just maneuvering her arm into the healing brew when he felt a strange thickness to the air. Whirling around, he saw the beginnings of a portal building in the infirmary behind him. Cursing, Plague Knight threw a sheet over his partner’s head and waved his minions to surround her bed. He approached the portal as it formed, and greeted the Tower Wizzems as they emerged.

“Hee! I was just wondering when I’d be dragged away from all my important work again! What is it this time?!”

The Wizzems simply reached towards him. Plague Knight danced away from their hands and then slipped between them, into the portal. On the other side, the Tower’s black corridors loomed. Plague Knight swallowed, smoothing his robes, as the Wizzems followed quickly, making grunts of annoyance.  
Was he in trouble? Had the Enchantress discovered his ruse? …Had his idiot minions talked?

It didn’t quite seem to be the case, however. Instead of being lead to the Enchantress’s chamber, he was brought into a side room where he found all eight of his minions lined up in a row. Every one of them was fidgeting, shuffling, or both… except for one at the very end, who could barely keep on their feet. Coming closer, Plague Knight recognized them as minion number one, still maskless. Her face was pale and shiny with sweat, and her eyes were foggy and unfocused. There was a faint pink sheen enclosing her entire body…  
Plague Knight felt another pang in his heart. She’d truly gone above and beyond, and here she was, paying for it…

“The Enchantress wishes to inform you of an incident that took place at the Tower,” said one of the Wizzems from behind Plague Knight, surprising him. They didn’t often speak, “Yesterday, one of your underlings detonated an infectious explosive in the Tower hub.”

“Oh, is that so? Well––” Plague Knight attempted to continue his thought, but the Wizzem interrupted him, going ahead with his speech. From the monotonous, driving way he spoke, it seemed he was unlikely to stop until he was finished.

“Her coworkers stepped in to valiantly remove all personnel from the affected area and were able to successfully prevent the disease from spreading. The Enchantress sends Her regards to these subordinates who worked so diligently to protect the Tower, and hopes you will reward them justly.”

The seven minions mentioned shuffled shyly, some rubbing the backs of their necks, the others puffing out their chests, a little. 

“On the other hand, She expresses disapproval at the actions of the individual who caused the incident in the first place. This individual is currently under magical quarantine and will remain so until removed from the Tower. The Enchantress expects swift and suitable punishment.”

Plague Knight’s eyes drifted over to minion one, who still looked like she was about to collapse at any moment. He had no intention of punishing her for her actions, but he felt that there was a chance they could be being watched. Was this a test by the Enchantress to determine if Plague Knight had had anything to do with yesterday’s fiasco?   
He decided to play it safe. Give them a little show…

“Hee! Well well well!” he cried, rounding on minion one properly and planting his hands on his hips, “It seems you’ve managed to exceed my expectations– I thought something like this would happen far earlier!”

He chortled wickedly to himself, before darting forwards, threateningly, “But you’ve merely delayed my headache. That simply won’t do! I don’t have time for this nonsense. I believe it’s time you visited…”

The seven remaining minions stiffened. They all knew what was coming. Plague Knight cracked his knuckles for effect.

“…The Vats.”

The minions all cowered in terror, letting out quickly stifled whimpers of fear. Even number one flinched and swayed on her feet. The Vats, another name for a secret room in the dungeons, was where Plague Knight performed his human experimentations. Only the worst of the worst were sent down there, but the place was feared by all…

“And if you think being sick will get you out of it, you can forget it, heehee! I’ve been dying to see what happens when you cross pestilences, hee hee hee..!”

He grabbed minion one by the arm then and dragged her towards the Wizzems, cackling maniacally as he went for effect. Despite the pain in his injured ribs, he forced himself to move in his usual twitchy manner. 

“And don’t any of you try to step in,” he added, hastily, to make sure none of the other minions spoke up to defend her, “Or it’ll be the same fate for you!”

The Wizzems, thankfully, seemed to take his cue, and teleported him back to the Explodatorium. Once he was completely certain there was no trace of them left, he immediately rushed minion one to quarantine and gave her a check up.

“Hee… Did you like my theatrics? I had to make sure any listening ears heard what they wanted to hear, heeheehee…”

Minion one merely gave a vague nod. He could tell his plague was quickly overwhelming her system, just as it was meant to do. Luckily, he had the antidote at the ready. He’d brewed up a stock of them a while ago, in case an actual accident affected the lab and an outbreak occurred.   
When he was finished caring for her, he let minion one rest, instructing a pair of her coworkers to watch over her while he was gone.

“Any turns for the worse, and you call me immediately, understand?!”

Rushing back from quarantine to the infirmary, Plague Knight found the effects of the tonic wearing off. Exhaustion was making his legs quake and his shoulders droop. By the time he returned to Mona’s bedside, he could hardly stand. He’d used up his strength putting on that show at the Tower.   
He did, however, manage to catch a glimpse of Mona’s submerged arm before he collapsed again. He wouldn’t say it was better, exactly, but from the texture of the skin, Plague Knight could tell that it was changing. Slowly but surely, it was healing.

\- - -

When Plague Knight awoke again, he felt a little more refreshed than the last time he’d regained consciousness in the infirmary. His body ached from his awkward slumber, and he had to rub the back of his neck to work out a few stinging kinks, but he at least felt less likely to fall apart at any second. Glancing up, he remembered that he’d fallen asleep at Mona’s cot… and looking at her face, he startled at the realization that her eyes were open.

“M–Mona!”

“Hey...”

Mona’s bottle-green eyes were lidded and unfocused, but he could see recognition in them.

“…Plaguey…” she murmured, hazily. She tried to move towards him, but flinched as she twitched her afflicted limb, “Agh… Ahh… My arm… What…”

Her eyes suddenly became more focused, and her brow knit, “I… P-Plague Knight– What happened? The cave– The Shadows..!”

“Heh, i-it’s okay, Mona!” Plague Knight waved his hands placatingly, “I collected the blood. It’s…”

He winced, slightly, remembering he’d been stripped of his robes when he’d been put to bed the first time, “It’s probably in my old cloak.”

“Probably?”

“Well, heh, the minions undressed me, a little, but I’m sure they didn’t touch my supplies. They know what happens when they touch my things without asking…”

Even so, he put in a quick order with a passing minion to bring him his old robes. Checking to make sure would definitely be prudent…

There was a small silence. 

“…So… I guess everything turned out alright…” Mona’s pronouncement was followed up with a wide yawn, “Except for my arm, heh… Are you okay?”

“Me? I-I’m fine,” lied Plague Knight, feeling guilt boiling in his stomach.

Mona nodded, and even with her eyes half-closed he could tell she was not-smiling.

“Oh, good. The last thing I can remember was jumping at you… It’s all a blur after that,” she gave a hoarse chuckle, “F-for a minute there I… I wasn’t sure we’d… but… well! Here we are…”

A lump grew in Plague Knight’s throat. It was all his fault. All of it. That stupid, foolhardy plan, the Shadows coalescing, Mona’s disfigured arm… If it wasn’t for his weakness during that final battle, Mona would never have had to do… whatever she’d done. It seemed as if she’d used her magic to destroy the creature, but at such a cost… Could she have died? All because he couldn’t throw a bomb a little higher…

A weight settled onto him slowly, pressing against him so heavily that he felt as if he might suffocate under its force. Yet, at the same time, there was a sort of calm numbness that came along with it. A dawning moment of realization.  
The latest incident had gone too far. Because of his weakness, Mona had been placed in mortal danger and they’d nearly lost the mission. He’d failed her. And the truth was that he would most likely fail her again and again and again before they finished the Serum, even possibly for good. He couldn’t let that happen.

He realized, as the weight crushed him, that loving Mona and having Mona were no longer the same thing. It pleased him above all else to see her happy, and he was only now realizing just how much he wanted that. He wanted to see her smile, a real smile… if she was even capable of it. And that was why he had to let her go.

“Mona…” he murmured, almost too quietly to hear.

“Hm?” her eyes flickered to him, opening a little wider.

“Mona,” he repeated, louder, “I… Eheh… haha… uhhh… By my calculations, your arm will be fully healed in a month’s time…”

“Oh, that’s good…” replied Mona, wearily.

“Yes… eheh, and, uhhh…” Plague Knight swallowed, “It, um… I can’t promise it will be back to normal… the damage it sustained was extensive. But I’m fairly sure it will be healthy enough to use, after a little rehabilitation…”

Mona’s eyelids drooped, “Ah… Well, it’s fine. I… thanks for looking after me…”

Plague Knight clenched his jaw. He was beating around the bush. He just had to say it; had to get it over with…

“Mona… Heh… A-after it’s healed… …you’re free to go.”

There was a pause.

“…Uh… What?”

Plague Knight’s fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to wring his hands, “You… you… You don’t have to stay here any longer. I-I won’t keep you.”

Mona stared, blankly, “Uh… thanks. It’s not like I can come and go on my own already, or anything…”

Plague Knight flinched at the sarcasm. Ugh! It was unexpectedly painful– of course she could come and go whenever she liked! She’d been visiting Spectre Knight for ages!!

“N-no, what I mean is… I-I know! I know. About you. And Spectre Knight,” he saw Mona’s eyes widen, and forced himself to keep going, “And–– A-and I want you to know that it’s okay! Heeheehee–– It’s okay. In fact, I think it would be best if you… if you went to him.”

“Wh… what..?”

“…because… Because, heh, let’s just stop kidding ourselves; I’m not strong enough to be able to help you attain what you need. After the Serum Supernus is over and you’re famous, you’ll need thousands of exotic ingredients for your new brews! Spectre Knight is… ugh. A far stronger Knight than I. He’ll be able to help you in ways that I can’t, maybe even with the Ultimate Potion’s power! So I think it would be best to just, eheh, p-put everything out in the open now, a-and you can be free to––“

Mona sat up in a flurry of bedsheets and a viscous splash of healing potion. Plague Knight jerked backwards in surprise, cringing away from the suddenly livid expression on her face.

“What– What the hells are you talking about?!” she cried, furiously, “What–– I don’t––“

“M-Mona, p-please calm down! I-I’m sorry, heehee! I didn’t mean to snoop– I-it’s just that I met Spectre Knight at the Tower and found out by accident!”

“Ugh! No!! It was supposed to..!” Mona gritted her teeth tightly, clenching her uninjured fist, “But what are you– What’s all this nonsense you’re babbling about?! After the Serum– Going to Spectre Knight– Y… Wh…”

She slumped, clutching at her chest with her right hand and breathing hard. When she looked up again, her eyes were glittering dangerously, “I… A-are you… getting rid of me..?”

The almost agonized tone in her voice shocked Plague Knight. He hadn’t expected this reaction at all.

“Wh… g-getting rid of you? No! No–– I never– I don’t want..! I… Hrm. Hee! Y-you misunderstand. I’m not c-cutting you out of the project, heehee! I’d never rob you of your rightful credit! I’m just saying that, eheh, I think it would be best… I-I think that…” he sighed, quietly, “I… You don’t have to stay here, with me. I don’t… I don’t want to hold you back…”

Mona stared, dumbfounded. She no longer appeared to be furious, which was a relief, but the look of confusion on her face was tinged with a sharp note of concern. It was difficult to know exactly what she was thinking, but she definitely seemed to be having a hard time processing Plague Knight’s words.

“I… S-since when have you been holding me back..?”

Plague Knight looked down at his hands, “…Heh… It isn’t obvious? I mean… Look at your arm! It’s my fault. If I’d been strong enough to carry out my plan, you’d never have had to step in like you did. And even when I was drafted into the Order… you were forced underground! Into the shadows! You’re paying for my mistakes, I… I don’t want that to happen again. You… You’re…”

He was about to pour his heart out, tell her how highly he thought of her and her skills. Everything short of a confession. He couldn’t confess. Not now. That would be cruel to both of them. But before he could continue, Mona was shaking her head.

“No, no, no… Plague Knight, what happened happened. I don’t care. We got the blood– that’s all that matters! So what if my arm’s roasted? I mean– maybe you could even fix it after you drink the Serum!”

“Y-yes, but… B-but if Spectre Knight had been there instead–“

“If Spectre Knight had been there instead, he would have cut me down and thrown me to the Enchantress,” snarled Mona, and an arc of blue magic crackled across her body, “What does he have to do with any of this, anyway? What… what did he tell you, exactly?”

There was a note of danger so powerful in her last few words that Plague Knight could practically feel them burning into his skin. 

“I-I-I just know you’ve been visiting him at the Lich Yard, is all!” he whimpered, “I-it’s okay, Mona! I… You c-could have told me! I wouldn’t have been angry… I-I don’t… I don’t have a claim on you, after all.”

Spectre Knight’s words rang in his ears once more. Loath though he was to admit it, his rival-of-sorts was right. It was wrong of him to call Mona his own when she didn’t even know about his feelings. The choice was hers to make. 

“I… Plague Knight…” there was a small silence, before Mona clapped a hand to her forehead, then winced slightly at the tenderness of her own skin, “Gods… Good gods on high and low…”

Plague Knight blinked. Mona let out a peal of frustrated laughter.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!”

Plague Knight nearly choked. Was this some kind of sick joke? 

“A surprise?! HEE! How on earth was that supposed to be a–“

“I wasn’t just going up there for fun,” Mona grumbled, cutting him off, “Plague Knight– I was spying on him! I’ve been ingratiating myself with that stupid bag of bones for nearly two years now, all so I could find out more about the innermost workings of the Order!”

Plague Knight stared.

“I… Y-you… ahee hee hee… uhhh… wha..?”

Mona took a deep breath and sank back onto her cot, looking exhausted. She glanced over to the bowl of healing draught which had spilled all over the ground.

“…Oh. Blast,” she muttered, frowning. 

Plague Knight quickly hopped up, “I-I’ll brew you another one, hee..!”

He stumbled at his own exhaustion, but Mona shook her head, “Later. Listen. I was going up there to try to glean more information on the Enchantress herself. Spectre Knight’s her right-hand ghoul. I thought if anyone would know about, say, her habits, or… weaknesses, it would be him. So I managed to get him into Spin Ye Bottle. Buttered him up. Said he’d reached ‘Super Extra Gold Platinum Rank’ and was now eligible for secret rounds that the general public weren’t privy to…”

She gave a small, involuntary chuckle, and Plague Knight stifled one of his own. Who knew Spectre Knight was so childish? 

“…Anyway. I’ve been going up there ever since and trying to wheedle secrets out of him,” she scowled at the wall, as if looking at someone who wasn’t there, “Not that I’ve managed much. Any time I get him to talk, he’s mostly just grouchy and philosophical. Really pessimistic.” 

“Heh, but… b-but why didn’t you tell me about this?” asked Plague Knight, tapping his fingers together, shyly.

Mona glanced at him and her eyes softened, then flicked back to the wall again.

“…I… As I said, it was meant to be a surprise…” her right hand began picking at the bedclothes, “There’s just… it’s so miserable down here. There’s so little to be happy about. So many things could go, and have gone wrong… I just thought… I-it would be nice. If, when you needed it most, I could spring all this good news on you…”

She sighed, sagging into her pillow, “After a bad setback or, or just a terrible day… I could give you all this information about the Enchantress. Stuff that might help you when you go after the Essences… I just… I thought it would be… Yeah.”

She gave another soft, rueful chuckle, “Guess it sounds kind of stupid now that I say it aloud… Especially since I didn’t actually learn anything…”

Plague Knight’s throat was clogged so tightly that it hurt. This whole time, he’d been scared that Mona was drifting away from him… and the truth was that she’d been trying to cheer him up. 

“M… Mona…”

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t realize you’d think…” her eyes snapped to him, suddenly, and he could practically see a fire burning within them, “Let me just state, right now, that I absolutely hate Spectre Knight. It’s his fault we’re down here. It’s his fault the Valley is enslaved, that the Enchantress is so strong– He– H-he–“

Mona’s voice rose an octave and became tight and breathless, “b–beat you half– half to death, for gods sake! There’s no way I’d ever..!”

She swallowed, shuddering, then composed herself.

“The point is, I have absolutely zero interest in him outside of what he can do to fix all this. If… if that’s what you were thinking.”

“…Really?” Plague Knight kicked himself mentally the second the word left him. He sounded so pathetic, asking for affirmation even now… 

“Yes, really. I don’t know why you’d think I’d… I-I mean. Look. I know he’s tall and, and cool, or… whatever. But I really couldn’t care less. I don’t care if he could make my life easier with his stupid ghost powers. I hate him. And I l…”

Mona froze, a strange look coming into her widened eyes. It almost seemed… terrified. She was mouthing soundlessly again, and making faint choking noises.

“M– Mona? Mona– A-are you okay? Hee! W-what’s the matter?”

He could feel heat pouring off her, so strong it was making him sweat. She was breathing strangely, and her knuckles were white against the sheets. Her eyes were boring into her lap, as if she were trying to find an answer to her predicament in the fibres of the bedclothes. Just as Plague Knight was starting to worry that something was seriously wrong, there was a burst of blue light. Every one of the pegs holding a nearby cot together popped out at once, ricocheting off of other cots and causing the unfortunate piece of furniture to collapse.

“I–I want to stay! Here! With you!” Mona choked out, finally, before wincing and glancing over at the broken bed, “I-I– …”

She covered her mouth. Plague Knight hesitated, then stumbled clumsily over to her side and placed a tentative hand on her arm.

“I-it was an accident,” he assured her, “A-and an impressive one too, heehee! But you shouldn’t exert yourself. I’m going to make some more salve for your arm…” 

Mona gave a blank nod, and Plague Knight scuttled away, glad of an excuse to be out of her presence. He was swarming with conflicting feelings. They made it rather hard to concentrate as he entered one of the many labs and set to making her a new healing potion. Even the arrival of the Blood, fully intact inside his old robes, wasn’t enough to snap him out of it.

Relief was coursing through him like a river, washing out the nauseous, crushing feeling of abandonment that had plagued him since he’d happened upon Spectre Knight at the Tower. Sure, Plague Knight wasn’t good enough. Not yet. But Spectre Knight wasn’t better. Mona didn’t want him… Mona… Mona wanted to stay.  
This revelation caused a wave of guilt to crash into him, battling the sense of relief. Mona’s unyielding loyalty now made his ineptitude all the harsher. Through thick and thin, she’d stuck with him, and even now she remained staunchly by his side… and what did he have to reward her with? A body full of bruises and a mutilated arm.   
But both of these feuding feelings only gave rise to a third, mighty surge of determination. Mona had given him a second chance. She wasn’t going to leave. She wasn’t going to abandon him. And together, they’d gotten the Blood…  
Now, more than ever, Plague Knight needed to complete the Serum Supernus. Come hells or high waters, he would brave whatever the universe threw at him, collect all nine Essences, and distill the Ultimate Potion, or die trying. Because, even if its powers didn’t make him someone Mona could love, they could at least make him someone who might deserve this unwavering loyalty.  
He owed it to her. He owed it to her to become someone worth the faith she had shown. 

Clenching his fist tightly over the neck of the beaker he was using, Plague Knight swore there and then that he would succeed in his quest. From now on he would let nothing stand in his way. Not others, not himself. The only thing able to keep him from his prize now was death… and Plague Knight was an old pro at cheating it. 

\- - -

As the weeks wore on, Mona showed marked signs of improvement. She became stable enough to return to the Potionarium almost immediately, and quickly got her usual relentless energy back after that. Plague Knight practically had to strap her to her cot to keep her from getting up and doing alchemy.

“Hee! Soon, soon, Mona!” he cried, as she scowled darkly at him over her be-sheeted knees, “I promise, you can get up again once your arm is ready for rehabilitation, heeheehee..!”

Mona remained sulky and said nothing, but she dutifully stayed in bed as instructed. She amused herself there by picking at the burnt skin of her face and collar-bone, which was beginning to peel away to reveal a new, tender layer underneath. 

Plague Knight himself returned to the Explodatorium briefly to have a good, long rest in his own bed and to visit Bertram. He would usually have just taken things easy on his feet until he replenished his usual vigour, but things were serious, now. More serious than they had ever been before.   
As he lay in bed, he hatched plan after plan, battle strategy after battle strategy, pondering over comprehensive mental lists of his enemies’ strengths and weaknesses.   
King Knight and Spectre Knight he’d fought before directly. He had a pretty good idea of their battle styles and nifty little tricks. They might be strong and fast, but neither of them were quite as clever as he. King Knight was too arrogant to plan for or even consider his flaws, and Spectre Knight was a little too secure in his maneuverability.   
Mole, Treasure and Polar Knight would all pose environmental challenges, but they were nothing a little alchemy couldn’t cover. Propeller Knight’s flying machine would be annoying to traverse as well, but then again, Plague Knight knew a few men on his crew. Perhaps he could convince some of them to help him over the errant gap?   
And then there was Tinker Knight. Surely, another diminutive man of science would understand his plight? Perhaps he wouldn’t have to face him at all…   
After them, there was only the Essence of Bravery to scout out and the Enchantress to confront. Plague Knight narrowed his eyes and smirked, gleefully.   
Oh, it would be dangerous. Perilous beyond a doubt. Plague Knight had no idea what Eldritch Magic was like or anything about combating it. But he would so love to sink his fist into the Enchantress’s stupid green face and get her back for what she’d done to him. What she’d done to all of them. One punch for him, one-hundred-and-something for the minions, and a good kick in the ribs for Mona. 

Mona… Plague Knight found himself cradling one of his pillows in his arms, and frowned into its padded surface. He had a plan to put into action to ready himself for the coming gauntlet, but he wanted to see her first. He had once entertained ideas of keeping away from Mona, of avoiding the pitfall of looking desperate. Now he knew that he was too weak to do so. …Of course.  
But maybe… maybe being weak for Mona, at least in that capacity, was okay? She wouldn’t really mind if he lingered there, by her side, a little too long… left a little too early so that he could return all the quicker… surely these little nuisances wouldn’t wear on her too much? Mona Mopes was used to dealing with annoyances…

\- - -

Back at the Potionarium, Plague Knight followed Mona to her desk, which was sitting next to the sewing station side of her shelf. 

“Heehee! Have you been resting up like I told you?” he said, slyly, eyeing her left sleeve.

Mona rolled her eyes, “Yes, Plague Knight. I’m not an idiot. I’m still going through rehabilitation, but the arm is healed. Look.”

She banished her glove and rolled up her sleeve, showing the limb beneath.   
Mona’s arm was maimed. There were no two ways about it. It resembled Spectre Knight’s skeletal limbs; taut skin stretched over knobbly bone. The tissue was a motley gradient, almost periwinkle at the fingertips, changing to a pale turquoise before it reached healthy green flesh.   
Mona flexed her fingers stiffly and sighed.

“Thank goodness I’m ambidextrous,” she muttered, “I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it soon. I’m going to cook up a realistic glove to fit over it so nobody notices and asks funny questions… In the meantime, you said you wanted to talk to me..?”

Plague Knight tore his eyes away from her mangled limb and swallowed.

“Hee! Yes, er…” he took a deep breath before speaking again. There was a big chance Mona wasn’t going to like this, “I’ve decided that I’m going to collect the Essences alone.” 

Just as predicted, Mona’s eyes narrowed.

“…Why?”

“Because… Well, heh, it’s not anything to do with your arm!” he cried, a little too fast, before regaining his composure, “Heehee! It’s just that I think, since the Order communicates fairly often and will probably take… eheeheeheee… umbrage with my actions, it would be best if I go it alone so that the blame rests solely on me. Besides, I know the Order strongholds rather intimately from my visits! And, well… heeheehee… We both know you’re the best with the minions…”

He hoped Mona wouldn’t be upset by his reasoning. He genuinely liked having her by his side on quests. She was clever and resourceful when things got dangerous -as proven by their recent endeavour- and she possessed many skills that came in handy during their tricky little outings. However… Mona was not necessarily a fighter. She’d never been trained in any type of combat, and her grace and quick wits couldn’t always be counted upon in dire situations.   
Defeating his coworkers’ minions and sneaking through their lairs would most likely have him fighting many battles… and it would definitely see him facing each Knight at the very end. Bringing her along would be deeply irresponsible of him. For the same reason he was careful with his minion placement, he could not put Mona into the line of fire. If anything happened to her, it would be his fault for placing an inexperienced person in a situation they couldn’t handle.  
He couldn’t let himself slip up, he couldn’t let Mona get caught, and he certainly could not let her get killed. 

To his surprise, however, Mona didn’t seem to be upset by his response.

“Heh. That’s kind of a relief, actually,” Mona yawned, widely, “After the last trip, I am very over quests. Plus, all this recovery has given me time to think about some… things…”

Mona’s eyes lit up with an eerie sparkle, “A little extra bang for your business trip, so to speak…”

Plague Knight couldn’t help but grin under his mask. Not only was he relieved that Mona didn’t feel left out, but he was terribly excited to see what she was cooking up. The last time she’d made him ‘a little extra bang’, he’d been able to spout flames, fireballs, teleport and clone himself. Who knew what wonders awaited? 

“I’m going to need Cipher Coins to get it all done, though, so… maybe you can go scout some out on your trips? Meanwhile, I made you this. If you’re going it alone, I think it’ll be particularly useful…”

Mona reached over to her shelf and pulled down a mass of dark blue fabric. Plague Knight recognized it as one of his cloaks. 

“Hee! A change of clothes?” Plague Knight cocked his head and smirked, “You’re not trying to tell me something, are you, Mona?”

Mona snickered and rolled her eyes, “No. I was working on this while my arm was still injured.”

“Mona!” Plague Knight squawked, indignantly.

“I know! I know, I was supposed to be resting,” she replied, quickly, “But I took it easy. I promise. I just put together a simple, alchemagical patch. That’s all.” 

“An alchemagical patch, eh? Where is it? What does it do?” asked Plague Knight, leaning in inquisitively.

Mona fumbled with the robes, rolling up the sleeves until the inside was visible at about elbow-length. There, sewn to the fabric, was a large, square piece of cloth. It was barely distinguishable against the dark background, but Plague Knight could tell it was there simply by its feeling.

“I made it to make sure you never run out of bombs on the go. It’s infused with a summoning spell,” Mona explained, eagerly, “I know you’ve gotten pretty good with your staff, but in the heat of battle, every second counts. All you have to do is picture the bomb you want, and…”

Mona placed a finger on the patch and stared, fixedly. A moment later, a black powder bomb popped out of it and rolled into her hand.

“Weeheehee! How convenient!” Plague Knight grinned, “Let me try!”

Mona handed him the cloak and he eagerly began stripping off the one he was wearing to exchange them. He only realized how questionable this was once he was halfway through, but he couldn’t exactly stop. He shyly slid the rest of his old robes into a heap on the ground, revealing his dark under-armour. Mona turned her eyes away to give him some privacy. Thank goodness. 

When he was all suited up, he gave his sleeve a wiggle, picturing a black powder bomb. His old robes shifted slightly as one of the explosives inside disappeared, and Plague Knight felt it roll past his arm. He snatched it in his spindly fingers before it clattered to the ground and giggled with glee.

“Ooh, Mona! This is perfect!”

Mona grinned, devilishly, “Of course. I only make the best. All we need now is to start making a stock of bombs to draw from. As you could probably tell, the patch doesn’t just make bombs. They have to come from somewhere. I think I’ll set up a little factory downstairs…”

“Weehee! And just in time, too!”

“Just in time? For what?”

“Heh, well…” Plague Knight paused, “I’m… heading out, soon.”

Mona stared, “What… To look for the Essences? Already?”

“Oh! Heh, no, ahh…” Plague Knight shifted from foot to foot, tapping his fingers together, “I’m just… going on a little errand, that’s all. No big deal!”

Mona frowned at him, brows knitting in suspicion, but ultimately she chose not to ask any further. Thank goodness. He was a little embarrassed about his coming quest and he didn’t want to tell Mona about it.

“When do you leave?”

“Heh… I was thinking tomorrow morning.”

Mona nodded, “Mm… Well. That leaves the rest of the afternoon. How about we test out that cloak a little more?”

Plague Knight grinned, “Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way, partner mine..!”

 

\- - -

 

It was late morning, and the sun was just hovering above the horizon. The heat was mitigated by a soft breeze that rustled the grass, and the sky was a gorgeous blue, filled with fluffy clouds and distant birds.

Plague Knight gazed out at the Plains of Passage, bracingly, his hands planted on his hips. Long ago, he and Mona had crossed this traitorous path with the help of the legendary Shovel Knight. The Blue Burrower had made it look easy, bounding over the land like a child playing hopscotch.  
If Plague Knight could conquer the Plains of Passage, he would stand a fighting chance against the Order strongholds.   
Freedom was so close at hand… he couldn’t fail them now. He might be weak of flesh, but he was not weak of will.   
Once he had thought that being in love was an illness… and perhaps he was right. He was certainly fevered now, teetering in anticipation on the precipice of his journey. His rational judgement was cloudy and his throat dry… only one thing could slake his thirst now. He would cross the Valley. He would climb the Tower. He would attain the Potion… and he would cure the object of his afflictions. 

The grassy expanse rolled out before him, deceptively beautiful, hiding its dangerous nature.   
Plague Knight gripped his staff tightly and rolled a bomb into his hand. Then he stepped forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the last chapter, folks! Stay tuned for the epilogue... Thank you all so much for the comments, and thanks for reading! I'll see you next time..! --TS


	23. The Final Note

Mona Mopes was used to towers. She’d lived in one for most of her childhood and sweeping vistas didn’t really impress her anymore. On the contrary, looking out a tower window almost always recalled a sense of profound loneliness and confinement in her.   
At the moment, Mona had much more than bitter memories to make her dislike being in the northeast turret of the Explodatorium. But it was really the only place she could be, right now. A halfway point. A compromise. 

She sat quietly amongst the stacks of papers and crates of junk. She’d arrived several days earlier and she hadn’t left since, simply summoning whatever she needed to get by. She felt slightly pathetic for being unable to focus on anything else or at least be productive during her stay, but she just couldn’t do it. Simply being here was making her stomach churn.  
It was here, after all, that it had all begun. The northeast tower was a storage area now, packed with blueprints, damaged beakers and unused furniture. One would never guess that it used to be a workspace. The open windows seemed counter-productive to a laboratory setting, and the clutter was so dusty it felt as if moving it would be disturbing some kind of sacred space. 

But it was here, of all places, that Mona had fallen in love.

Well. Realized she’d fallen in love. She suspected, now that she thought about it, that she’d been falling in love for some time. But it was at that precise moment that it had dawned on her just how deep her feelings went.   
They’d been there in the tower, together. He’d recalled an idea she’d had a year ago, and offered to help her make it a reality, as a special treat. A reunion present. She’d forgotten all about it until he’d brought it up, but she was delighted to solidify her concept. They worked together for the first time in ages, laughing and catching up as they tried this component with that, looking for a perfect mixture…  
When they were finished, he’d offered her the honour of testing it. But she never saw what it looked like. Only its reflection against his mask. She’d glanced over to him, and suddenly found that she couldn’t take her eyes away.

For her whole life, Mona had been separated from other people. Both physically and emotionally, she’d been kept in a strange bubble of isolation for some unfathomable reason… and the moment she’d been expected to step out of it, she hadn’t had a clue what to do. She did her best with the lessons she’d been taught and the etiquette she’d learned, but it seemed that even when someone liked her, they… didn’t.   
There was a great sense of detachment, of otherness from her own body. As if she was trapped in a new tower, a tower behind her eyes, peering out at the people who spoke at her, but not to her.   
It was so disconcerting, Mona found herself asking why more than anything else for a long time. Nobody answered.   
She did her best to stay curious and explore the world outside her gilded cage, but every morning became heavier and heavier until getting out of bed was a small challenge all its own. Only the promise of following her passions was able to rouse her, and even then it was only a carrot on a stick. The world turned grey, and she got used to it. 

And then, out of nowhere, this strange little man popped into her life. A criminal. A scoundrel. And before she knew it, she was as guilty as he was, and they were running away, and they were starving, and they were tired, and they were stealing, and they were cracking jokes to pass the time…  
And then he was telling her about an idea she’d forgotten. Like he’d actually listened to her. Like he’d actually paid attention to what she had to say. Like he really cared about what she thought. Maybe even about her. This bright, brilliant, eccentric, mad little man… a tiny sun driving away the greyness and restoring the world to brilliant, blinding sunset hues.

Well. How could she not fall in love? He was nasty, and devious, and charming. Clever and curious and warm, so, so warm, in a way that seemed to affect her even past the constant heat she produced. A warmth that went right into her heart. And… and really these were all fanciful, half-formed explanations of the simple, scientific fact that she’d gotten a dumb little crush on her partner, just like every other silly young woman was apt to do with the nearest young peer who paid them attention. 

It was a little overwhelming, really. Mona wasn’t used to such feelings. Wanting to be close to another person? Wanting to tear down all those walls she’d slaved over? Wanting to be vulnerable, and even… affectionate? It was almost like she’d contracted some kind of brain-eating disease. Yet she’d allowed it to consume her, pining over him like a sick fool.   
She’d tried to relieve her symptoms as best she could; slipping him little hints and clues to her illness in hopes that he might be able to cure it. But she couldn’t just… tell him. Because there was always the horrible chance that he’d– Ugh.  
She was scared of rejection. For the first time in her life, she’d opened up to someone, and the idea that he would reach inside her and yank out her metaphorical heart– the idea he even had the power to do that, and how much it would hurt her– utterly terrified her.  
So she lived in a constant state of limbo, both determined to attain his affections and terrified of the possibility of losing them altogether. 

Now, it wasn’t that she needed him, exactly. He wasn’t the final piece in her puzzle, or anything. She was a whole and complete person on her own who could accomplish her goals all by herself. But…  
She wanted him. She wanted to be a famous alchemist and she wanted him to be there next to her, too. Was that greedy? Well. Mona didn’t care. But she was still frightened.

So she carried on winking and nudging and fluttering her eyelashes. But it had all been a big waste of time, apparently.

 

‘C-c-can’t even formulate a response.’

 

What an awful time to find out. They’d been so close, she’d put her safety on the line in exchange for his, and… and then she’d been told, this whole time, he was doing all this to catch somebody else’s eye. 

It was so utterly frustrating how painful it was. So stupid how angry she’d been. After all, just because the Serum Supernus was being brewed to woo the Magicist didn’t mean that its significance changed. Mona would still be credited for her work. She’d still be respected as a brilliant alchemist. They’d still be free of the Enchantress’s rule.   
Wasn’t that what she wanted? Wasn’t that enough? Who cared if Plague Knight didn’t return her feelings. It wasn’t as if she’d been brave enough to tell him straight-out in the first place.  
All her talk of being a tool to him, her self-righteous demand about the status of their partnership… It felt right. But it in the end, it was just a foolish burst of emotion. She was still getting what she’d worked for. Just not everything she wanted.

She felt stupid and spoiled for reacting so viscerally. As if he was betraying her somehow, even when he’d never promised her anything…   
But perhaps it was less about her broken heart, and more about her broken trust… what hurt the most, the more she thought about it, was that he hadn’t told her. He’d kept it a secret all this time.   
Why? Weren’t they partners? Didn’t he feel comfortable sharing that information with her? She’d asked him what he wanted from the Serum Supernus… what his dreams were. And he’d fed her some stupid story about cake. Why couldn’t he just tell her the truth..? It wasn’t like her stupid ‘surprise’ with Spectre Knight; he couldn’t be keeping it from her for any kind of positive reason.  
Was he afraid she’d tease him? Was he afraid she’d call him sentimental or small-minded? Or… or had he known? Had he known all this time that she felt the way she did, and kept his feelings from her for fear she’d storm off in a jealous rage?

Like she had.

She was hurt and confused. She’d used the last of her rational thought to tear herself away from the scene and hide, to think. And then she’d never stopped thinking.  
Trust and cynicism fought a raging battle in her head as she traversed The Valley. Eventually, trust won out. She’d known Plague Knight for years. He could be shy and awkward, and his reason for lying to her could be completely understandable. Perhaps if she managed to speak with him properly, he’d explain his actions, and… and she’d forgive him. And he’d forgive her. And they’d finish the Ultimate Potion… together.  
Because, even if it meant him succeeding in his quest and winning over the Magicist… she loved him. And that meant seeing him happy, even if it that was in the arms of some other girl. The Magicist was a clever magic-user and a capable spy, despite her spaciness, and… she was pretty, too. Open and friendly and nice. Plenty of reasons to fall for her. It should have been obvious…

So she’d made the decision to go back. But then… what if it was too late? What if she’d gone too far? What if he didn’t want her back, even as a scientific collaborator? The idea that he now hated her because of the incident was so petrifying that Mona couldn’t bring herself to return to him directly. So she’d gone somewhere she knew he would find her… if he wanted to.

And she’d waited, and she’d waited, with contradicting, circular trains of thought chugging around her mind, making it difficult to sleep. And here she was, now.

‘Gods, Mona. Enough is enough. You have to get a grip on yourself.”

Heaving herself to her feet, Mona stretched stiffly and made her way over to one of the high windows overlooking the rest of the castle. She pressed her palms against the cill and braced her weight against it, feeling its sturdiness under her fingers. 

‘You’re not some snivelling teenager. You’re twenty-seven and you’ve survived worse than this.’

She clenched her left hand reflexively and took a deep, steadying breath. She really was being stupid and childish. It was time she moved on with things. There were three more Essences left, and she didn’t even know if Plague Knight had captured any of them. If he was behind, it was up to her to help him pick up the slack with some clever new trick… She wasn’t about to give up her dreams just because her crush didn’t like her back.

Glancing up in determination, Mona was almost too focused on her inner thoughts to notice a strange black shape in the sky. The rate at which it was approaching, however, shook her out of her musings and caused her to peer at it as it neared.  
At first, Mona thought it was some kind of huge bird. Her thoughts immediately went to the Hurglevergle and she winced. But no, that couldn’t be… and as it approached, it became more and more clear that it was black. And shiny. And man-shaped. And––

With a colossal flapping of huge dark wings, Black Knight flew into the window and scrambled to get through it, beating against the slightly-too-narrow opening like a moth against a lantern. Feathers were going everywhere, and the gusts of wind produced by his movements were causing chaos inside the tower room. Mona backed away sharply, raising her hands.

“What–– What are you doing here?!” she cried as the winged Knight finally managed to force his way into the room. 

He fell inside with a loud clanking of armour, and his newly grown wings continued to shed feathers at an alarming rate. In fact, the Black Knight seemed to be in rather poor condition. His armour was dented and stained, and he was twitching and radiating a freezing aura. Mona felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck– she knew this feeling. The Enchantress’s magic.

“S-stay back–“ she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she moved slowly away from him. She kept her hands raised threateningly as she tried to surreptitiously scout out a clear stretch of floor.

“Madame Alchemist,” gasped the Black Knight, his voice raw and ragged, “You must come with me at once!”

“I’m not going anywhere. I have no quarrel with you.”

“No, you don’t understand– agh…” the winged man forced himself to his knees, shuddering. As Mona watched, the wings on his back began to contort. Feathers fell like hailstones, burning up as they touched the ground. The Enchantress’s magic seemed to be… weakening..? “I was… wrong..!”

“Wrong? What do you mean, wrong?” Mona replied, sharply, still refusing to drop her guard, though she was beginning to worry about the diminutive Knight’s condition.

The next moment, the wings on his back gave a final undulation before disappearing completely in a crackle of magenta magic. The Black Knight rested on one knee, catching his breath laboriously. 

“Plague Knight,” he rasped, “The Ultimate Potion… I was mistaken in my reasoning… I had thought… he wished to beguile the Magicist… but it isn’t true..!”

In spite of herself, Mona felt her heart leap. Even the embarrassment of having trusted a stranger over her best friend was quelled by the enormous surge of relief. Plague Knight wasn’t in love with the Magicist. The Serum Supernus wasn’t intended for her heart. There was still a chance..!

“It was you!”

Mona froze.

“What?”

“All along, his machinations and desires…” the Black Knight seemed to be regaining his strength a little, slowly and gingerly rising to his feet, stumbling slightly as he went, “They were for you! It’s your heart he’s been after all this time!”

Mona’s stomach lurched. Horror gripped her so tightly she could barely breath. Several facts fell into place at once, and she immediately bore down upon the little Knight.

“Where is he.”

“I miscalculated– I should have kn–“

“WHERE IS HE.”

The Black Knight winced at her sudden shout.

“The Tower of Fate… he’s gone to confront the Enchantress…”

Mona stiffened. 

“He’s mad… I tried to hold him off, but he fought like a demon..!” Black Knight shook his head, angrily, “He won’t see sense. Won’t listen to reason. I have come… to beg your help. He must not harm the Enchantress… He will not listen to me, but you–“

“Take me to him,” Mona ordered, “I-I can fix this.”

“Yes, yes!“ Black Knight seemed heartened by her fierce agreement, “But… the Tower is miles away, and it seems Her powers have faded…”

He reached for his shoulder blades, gingerly, “This poses a problem… I may be able to summon my steed, but–“

“There’s no time. Come here.”

Mona held out her hands to Black Knight. He looked up at her, tilting his head in confusion.

“What..?”

“Just give me your hands,” she growled, impatiently.

He obliged, uncertainly, and Mona yanked him to her side. She used the messy path he’d cleared by his landing to perform a teleportation. One, two…

 

…three. For the first time since discovering the oddity, Mona was unable to appear by her partner’s side. There was a heavy, oppressive force bearing down upon her, and it matched the ominous black walls of the corridor she found herself in. They must be inside the Tower. But where, exactly..? There was a faint light from up ahead, as well as a strange sound.

“That’s the Enchantress’s chamber– We must make haste!” cried Black Knight, recovering remarkably quickly from the sudden change of place and rushing forwards. 

“NO!” he shouted, thunderously, as he hurried into the chamber beyond, “Stop your assault! Plague Knight, look! I’ve brought someone!”

Mona followed him quickly, heart beating painfully against her ribs. The room ahead was cavernous– tall like a church, and just as solemn. Only a faint green light filtered in through high, cracked stained-glass windows, paling against the strange brilliance at its centre. There, bathed in the glow, was Plague Knight, facing away from them.

“Plague Knight!” Mona called out to him, her voice cracking, “Come to your senses– You don’t need to go through with this!”

Plague Knight turned, and as he did Mona noticed his torn and tattered robes. He had both his arms raised above him, fingers outstretched to the Portable Decanter. It was hovering above him, shuddering and burning with a terrible, ever-changing light. 

“Mona–“ the word came out of him suddenly and raggedly, like a gob of bile, “You don’t understand! I was too weak to say it before, but now I can show you I’m good enough..!”

His voice was desperate. Deranged. He was clearly teetering on a precipice, and she couldn’t let him fall off.

“Black Knight told me everything– you don’t need a potion to win me over! You… You already have..!”

It was hard to speak past the lump in her throat but she had to remain calm. She had to talk him down.

“W… what..? I… But it’s too late–“ the Portable Decanter began to shudder more fiercely. The Essences inside began to escape, whirling into all corners of the chamber, their energy lifting Plague Knight off his feet and into the air, “I already defeated the Enchantress and began the final distillation!”

Black Knight flinched and let out an agonized cry. 

“I was too late! I must go after her,” he turned on his heels, hefting his blade into his hands, “You two– Touch nothing until I return!”

As the other Knight clanked away down the corridor, his footsteps were swallowed up by a deep hum that filled the chamber. Mona could feel it in her chest, vibrating so hard it almost hurt.

“Where is all this… power coming from..?” gasped Plague Knight, his voice strange against the din, “This wasn’t in our notes!”

“The Essences are reacting unpredictably–” cried Mona, feeling her eardrums pop under the steadily increasing pressure, “W-watch out!!”

With a blinding flash of light, the whirling Essences pitched in midair, and the force holding Plague Knight aloft released. Forgetting all sense of self-preservation, Mona leapt forwards to catch him, to cover him, to surround him in her cape and being and to protect him from anything– everything– just like she had before––

WHAM

The Essences collided into Plague Knight with a sound like a thunderclap, and the ensuing force lifted Mona off her feet just as she reached her partner. She flew limply through the air and slammed into the chamber wall so hard it forced all of the air out of her lungs at once.  
Choking and nearly blacking out, Mona forced herself to draw in oxygen, struggling to push herself up. This was no time to lose consciousness– through blurry, aching eyes, she could see a dark heap on the floor, bathed in the eerie glow of the circling Essences.

She staggered to her feet and stumbled to the centre of the room, falling to her knees beside her partner. She found, to her fury, that she couldn’t touch him– the Essences were creating some kind of powerful barrier around him that kept her at bay. There he was, laying crumpled and twitching on the black stone floor, and she couldn’t– she couldn’t…   
She could see burns on his robes and skin. Blood seeping from scrapes and cuts on his exposed arms. His mask was cracked, and even as the moments slipped past he made no move to get up. She couldn’t even get close enough to check his breath. But he was alive, wasn’t he? Wasn’t he..?

“Plague Knight,” she called to him, firmly “Plague Knight– Wake up.”

He didn’t respond. His limbs were jerking slightly, as if he might be dreaming, but that could be a side-effect of the Essence’s energy. Mona suddenly noted a tremor pass through the Tower, sending dust descending from the ceiling. Had the Potion’s power shaken the building’s foundation?

“Plague Knight,” Mona tried again, loudly, a lump rising in her throat, “Plague Knight, wake up, now! We have to get out of here, w-we failed– we need to get back to the lab, and… and…”

And what?

“Plague Knight…” Mona swallowed hard, trying to force down the tightness, “You should never have… all this… I… Y-you idiot! You idiot, you moron–”

Her body began to tremble as she watched him lay there, unresponsive. 

“I… I’m sorry, okay? I should have said something earlier. I’ll make it up to you when we go b-back to the lab. I promise. Just––”

Still, nothing. The Essences continued to whirl around him, a blurry ring of colour and indescribable power.

“Look– I– I––“ Mona exhaled, sharply, “…I LOVE YOU, OKAY?! I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!! THERE, I SAID IT OUT LOUD! SO YOU HAVE TO–– Y-you have– you have to w…”

Her voice wavered out of existence as her throat became too tight to speak. She sat there, paralyzed, shaking. Then the world turned blurry, and she broke down.   
It had been almost a decade since she’d last cried. When she’d entered the Academy she’d told herself she would stop. Crying was useless, and it only got in the way of progress. Of moving on. Yet, at the moment, she couldn’t see a way forward. Oh, there was one. There was always something.   
But now, all she wanted to do was grieve. She was sitting there, just inches away from him, and yet she couldn’t help him. Couldn’t touch him. He was probably dead already, and it was all her fault.  
All because she’d been too much of a dirty coward to say three simple words. 

More tremors passed through the Tower as she hung her head, letting her hair fall over her face. She didn’t want any of the Enchantress’s forces see her cry when they inevitably broke in. The tears were hot, and wet, and they tickled her nose as they ran down it. The sound of her own sobbing terrified her; it was so raw, so throbbing and painful, like an open wound given voice. Part of her still seemed to be in denial, but her body refused to leave it unpunished. 

All her fault. It was all her fault. And she didn’t even know if she could fix it. Could she even get out of here alive? The Enchantress couldn’t be dead, and she would certainly be after them the moment she returned. The minions… so many innocent people… she’d doomed them all, hadn’t she? Percy… The Magicist… Oolong… She had to get them out of The Valley before it was too late! But Plague Knight… He was… he was…

Mona flinched, suddenly, as she felt something brush her cheek.

“Mona…” 

A soft, croaky voice.

“…Heh…Why are you crying..?”

She felt the tips of talons gently poke her, the scarred palm of a small, pale green hand against her flesh…   
Plague Knight’s beak was pointed at her, and the barrier had broken. 

She stared, mouth open, eyes wide, completely frozen for a few moments. Then, completely forgetting herself, Mona swooped down upon him and snatched him into her arms. She clung to him so tightly she heard something crack. Plague Knight gagged and struggled feebly as Mona tried to let loose a volley of curses through her blocked throat.

The next moment, however, Mona let go of him and stumbled back, getting to her feet. Plague Knight wobbled upright as well. There, hovering in the air, slowly descending between them, was the Portable Decanter. The Essences had disappeared, and instead, the bulb of the beaker was full of a pure, pearlescent light…

Finally, Mona managed to speak.

“Y-you did it..!” she breathed, “T-the reaction has stabilized..! Wow…”

She gaped at the gently bobbing beaker, feeling her wet cheeks begin to itch, “There it is… the Ultimate Potion. …Well… A-are…”

She swallowed, trying to compose herself. Her brain was having a hard time processing things. He wasn’t dead… the Serum Supernus was actually… everything was…

“…Are you going to drink it, now..?”

A bubble of eagerness rose up and popped in her chest, causing her to convulse with a silent giggle. Relief and awe were quickly replacing agony, and the change was quite disconcerting. Her head spun, slightly.

“Heh…” Plague Knight swayed a little on his feet, but he seemed to be strong enough to remain there, “I…”

He stared up at her for a few moments, before looking away, “I don’t… think I need it anymore, Mona.”

Mona blinked.

“Wh… b…” she shook her head, hard, “But we must take it with us! It’s all we’ve been working for..! My––“ she let out another laugh, an audible one this time. It was a rather wild, unstable sound, “My future as an alchemist is riding on it!”

Just as she spoke, however, a memory came to her. Yet another memory of the Academy. A memory of something her partner had told her a long time ago, right after she’d burnt it to the ground…

“…Wait. I-I just got an idea. You know how much energy is contained in this potion, right?”

Plague Knight giggled thickly, tipping forwards slightly, “Yeah, heh, this much boom could easily level the whole Tower..!”

“…and be seen for miles in all directions,” continued Mona, her eyes sparkling.

Plague Knight looked back up at her, and his fists clenched, “Mona..! I love the way you think..! Haha… HAHAHA!”

He let out a triumphant cackle and took a few, unsteady steps forwards, “The bigger the explosion..!”

“The better the alchemist!” Mona finished, moving towards him as well, “T-those bumbling townsfolk would throw us a parade! W-we could practice alchemy wherever we want!”

“We wouldn’t have to hide away anymore!” Plague Knight cried, joyfully. 

Now they were standing quite close to each other, hands outstretched, fingers almost touching. Mona drew back, however, her eyes focusing on the hovering white flask between them. Its contents were swirling softly, emitting little sparks of light, like fireflies… 

“…But… You’re holding a potion that can give you anything you could ever want…” she looked back at him, uncertainly, “Are you sure about this..?”

She’d come to understand his nervous ways. Come to realize the burden of his height, his constitution, perhaps even his appearance. The idea that he thought so little of himself struck her heart deeply, especially when she saw so much in him… She couldn’t deprive him of the chance to change. She couldn’t deprive him of becoming all he’d ever dreamed of…

“I…” Plague Knight tentatively stretched his hand out just a little further, past the hovering beaker, and touched her fingertips, “…I already have everything I could ever want.”

It was like a chemical reaction. Warmth rushed up her arm, into her chest, into her very core, dispelling the fear and the confusion and the exhaustion. A smirk wobbled its way onto her lips, and she took his hand.

“…Let’s blow this joint.”

Plague Knight grabbed ahold of the Ultimate Potion and tossed it violently to the floor. The moment it left his hand, it began to grow brighter, shaking vigorously, as if it knew exactly what they wanted.

“Let’s go..!”

The Tower shook again, this time more forcefully. Dust, then pebbles, then pieces of stone began to fall from the ceiling. Mona dashed for the exit, clutching Plague Knight’s hand like a vice. Despite the dire circumstances, she didn’t feel worried, somehow. There was a strange power surging through her; a pure sense that no matter what, they would be alright.

Plague Knight, however, didn’t seem as confident.

“Heh, er, Mona? Why aren’t you teleporting us out?” he asked, as they dodged around a particularly large chunk of ceiling and avoided a spray of glass from a shattering window.

“We’re moving too quickly– I can’t move us like this,” she said, yanking her partner out of the way of a collapsing pillar.

“Heh!! I think we might have miscalculated!” Plague Knight cackled, “If the ceiling doesn’t kill us, the Potion will certainly fry us into oblivion, heeheehaha!!”

“There’s got to be a way out somewhere,” replied Mona, determinately, as they turned a corner and continued down the crumbling hallways.

Plague Knight was silent for a moment as he leapt over a pile of rubble.

“Weehee! Heeheehee– Wouldn’t it be funny if we– If we rode the explosion out like a big bomb burst?” he cried suddenly, “Hahaha!! If only we were a little more blast-proof!”

Mona blinked at him, then pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

“Why not? Haha! Let’s do it!!!”

A bright blue glow surrounded them as Mona began to heat up. There was a row of windows up ahead, all sending multicoloured light spilling across the chaos. She no longer had to dodge, now. She could feel it deep inside her. Rubble and bricks were bouncing off them like pebbles; nothing seemed to be able to hurt them anymore.  
A roaring, rushing sound flew up the corridor behind them, bringing with it a surge of white light. Mona clutched her partner close and took a running leap at the shattering windows…

 

\- - -

“Look..!”

“U-up there!! In the sky!”

“By the gods..!”

 

“Hee! Do you hear that?”

Mona was lost in a haze of wind, heat and coiled muscles, but her partner’s voice managed to rouse her. Blinking, she realized they’d exited the pure white light of the Serum’s explosion. A long time ago, in fact. The whiteness that had been surrounding them for the last little while had been cloud. They were now floating down at a brisk pace, heading towards the shingled roofs of The Village.   
A crowd had gathered at the far end, and were gawking up at them as they descended. 

“Heehee! Looks like we’ve got a welcoming committee!”

“Or an angry mob…”

“I don’t see any pitchforks!”

Mona made a conscious effort to slow them before they reached the ground. As they neared the cobbles, the crowd drew back into a large semi-circle, whispering and staring.   
Mona carefully let Plague Knight go as they touched down, and stretched her own stiff body. Plague Knight straightened his shoulders and looked around at the surrounding Villagers. After a few moments, he settled into his usual jaunty stance, one beleaguered-looking foot sticking out, hand grandly resting upon his staff.

“HEE! …Your welcome!”

Then he took a bow. Mona blinked at him, before realizing what he was up to. A grin twitched onto her lips, and she followed suit, sweeping her skirts and cape grandly. After a small silence, the circle erupted in cheers. 

“Heeheehee! Yes! We’ll bask in your gratefulness later!” cried Plague Knight, pushing through the crowd, and beckoning Mona to follow him.

As they made their way down the roads, there was something of an awkward silence between them. They kept glancing at each other, then quickly looking away. Mona could feel the adrenaline of escaping the Tower wearing off very quickly. However, instead of feeling like she could collapse, there was a merely a soft weariness in her core. The kind of cozy feeling one might have sitting in front of a fire after a long day. Everything seemed numb rather than aching. Everything except the warmth that remained in her chest. 

Upon entering the tavern and coming to the back room, Plague Knight wobbled slightly on his feet. Mona tripped forwards to steady him, and he clung to her arms, gratefully.

“Hee… I-I think… I need to sit down,” he said, with much less bravado than he’d had earlier. He promptly sank to his knees, and Mona followed suit.

“A-are you okay?”

“I’m fine, heh, just… hee..! I think everything’s starting to really sink in…”

“…Yeah…”

There was a small silence. Mona dropped jerkily into a sitting position, forgetting to mind her skirts so that they balled up into a rumpled heap behind her. 

“Can…” Plague Knight was leaning against the brick wall in a way that betrayed just how exhausted he was. Even so, his posture also conveyed a certain anxiety, “…M-may I…”

“…May you… what..?”

Plague Knight motioned weakly to her, “I… May I lean against you? Heh– Y-you see, the wall’s awfully hard, and I ah– I-I mean to say, a softer seat will prevent my injuries from increasing, heh, i-it’s all very… scien… scien…”

He trailed off, sheepishly. Mona pursed her lips and looked away.

“…Uh. Sure. If it’s… for your injuries…”

She shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, and Plague Knight shuffled closer, delicately laying his head into the crook of her arm. Mona allowed it to happen, silently. To combat at least a little of her embarrassment, she conjured a folding screen from the infirmary, allowing it to box them into the corner of the room. A tiny, ramshackle sanctuary. 

“Heh, uhhhh… this is much better,” said Plague Knight, awkwardly, weakly tapping his fingers together in his lap, “It really, uhhh, helps the, er…”

“Just get some rest,” said Mona, softly. 

After a moment of painful hesitation, she tucked an arm around her partner. To her delight, he curled up closer.

\- - -

When Mona opened her eyes next, she found she’d slid down the wall and onto the floor. She was curled into a sort of S-shape, with her cheek pressed painfully into her shoulder. Her arms were encircling her partner’s torso, who was snoozing with both his arms flung over her hips. They were a sort of tangle of limbs and tattered clothing.

Mona stirred first, causing Plague Knight to shift and grunt in discomfort.

“Eugh… Hrrghll…”

He pushed himself up groggily, took in his whereabouts, then frantically pulled away from Mona.

“Ah–! H-heehee! Oh dear! Look at that, w-we overslept! I… think.”

Mona was a little disappointed by his sudden withdrawal, feeling the place he’d once been quickly turn cool. Nevertheless, she sat up and stretched, wincing. It certainly felt like they’d overslept. From the muffled noise coming through the nearby door, it seemed they’d passed out for quite a long while. 

“I feel like I got run over by a cart,” Mona muttered, “And I’m starving. Lets get down to the lab…”

“Good idea! Heh…”

Banishing the folding screen, Mona summoned her lever and called up the lifts. The trip down woke them up a bit more, allowing them to finally properly take in what they’d just accomplished.  
They’d destroyed the Tower of Fate. They’d won the approval of the Villagers. And best of all, it seemed that they’d… that they’d finally..!

“Y-You’re back! You’re alive! Wonderful!” 

No sooner had they set foot in the labs than they were mobbed by Percy and the Magicist, who both appeared to have had a rather rough night. Their clothes were rumpled, their hair a mess, and there was a certain puffiness to both their eyes. It was more apparent in the Magicist’s, as they could see the reddened veins against her sclera. 

Percy, however, was clearly trying to regain his usual jaunty bravado as he spoke, “I’m going to assume that explosion was your handiwork?”

Mona glanced at her partner and grinned, a bubble of excitement rising into her chest as reality became clearer and clearer, “Yep! That crusty old tower was an eyesore, anyway…”

Plague Knight snickered in agreement. From his posture, Mona guessed he was becoming similarly aware of how wonderful life had suddenly become. Percy chuckled, clapping his hooves.

“Amazing! I didn’t get any rocks thrown at me today… You know, I think the townspeople are actually… Grateful!”

It seemed they’d slept for quite some time. Long enough for Percy to have stumbled out into the open like a dolt and discovered the Villagers’ new opinions of them.   
Before Percy could say any more, however, The Magicist spoke up. The expression on her face was fretful, and surprisingly alert.

“Listen, Plague Knight…” she stared steadily down at the little alchemist, hands clasped before her, head bowed, “I know you made all these potions and blew everything up… all to impress me…”

Plague Knight flinched, and his beak practically blurred in the air as he glanced between Mona and the Magicist, frantically. Mona, however, gave him a small, wobbly smirk of reassurance. She no longer doubted his allegiance, whatever anyone said. She felt guilty it had taken her this long.

“I’m so flattered, really, I am,” continued the Magicist, before taking a few, tentative steps back, “I have to make a confession, though…” 

She hesitated, looking deeply apologetic, before bowing, “…You’re… not my type. I’m so sorry.”

Plague Knight twitched, and Mona heard a faint gurgle in the back of his throat that was surely a stifled cackle. 

“You see…” and suddenly, to Mona’s surprise, the Magicist reached out and took ahold of Percy’s sleeve, “I’ve fallen for a REAL MAN!”

There was a small silence as Mona stared, dumbfounded. Percy, beamed embarrassedly and the Magicist snuggled up to his side. Mona felt Plague Knight move beside her, as if to leap on his hilarious revelation, when they were interrupted by the arrival of a pair of minions.

“Guys! Guys!! The Villagers are all in the juice bar, and they want to buy us a round! Let’s go!”

Plague Knight pulled back, smoothing down his robes and chuckling. 

“Heh! That sounds lovely! But I think we’ll catch up later. There’s science to be done! Mona..?”

He glanced up at her, and Mona finally felt her excitement spill over. The warmth in her chest expanded outwards, bathing the area around her in a comfortable, happy glow. She didn’t know what was coming next, and she didn’t know how they would proceed. They could be beset by a thousand disasters, agonized by a million woes. Just like all those years ago, she was standing at the edge of a precipice… But then again, she was facing it with him, once more. And now, possibly, forever. They would be walking forwards, hand in hand, staring whatever was coming at them right in the eyes. 

Plague Knight’s fingers were outstretched to her, and she intertwined hers with them, firmly, beaming down at him with the radiance of a sun.

“…Let’s get started, Plague Knight. There’s no telling what we’ll brew up next..!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little re-imagining of the end of POS. Because I love being melodramatic as heck.  
> Anyway, that's it! I can't thank you all enough for your support and continued reading, it's been a blast going through this with y'all. I think this is probably the largest literary undertaking I've ever attempted and it's heartening to know it's a success..!
> 
> ...Now, for some reason, I've always kinda pictured this series as being a trilogy (though I'm surprised it ever became a series in the first place..!) so who knows? If I can sort out all my thoughts, maybe there'll be a final sequel. Otherwise, thanks again for all the love, and I hope you guys enjoyed! --TS


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